away from them with a stranger! I could never have done that! But
I have no father and no mother--no one but Dad!--ah!--how I have
loved Dad!--and yet I don't belong to him--and when he is dead--"

Here an overpowering sense of calamity swept over her, and
dropping on her knees by the open window she laid her head on her
folded arms and wept bitterly.

A voice called her in subdued accents once or twice, "Innocent!
Innocent!"--but she did not hear.

Presently a rose flung through the window fell on her bent head.
She started up, alarmed.

"Innocent!"

Timidly she leaned out over the window-sill, looking down into the
dusky green of clambering foliage, and saw a familiar face smiling
up at her. She uttered a soft cry.

"Robin!"

"Yes--it's Robin!" he replied. "Innocent, what's the matter? I
heard you crying!"

"No--no!" she answered, whisperingly--"It's nothing! Oh, Robin!--
why are you here at this time of night? Do go away!"

"Not I!" and Robin placed one foot firmly on the tough and gnarled
branch of a giant wistaria that was trained thickly all over that