"My poor fellows," she said, tenderly, her manner changing as if by magic, "my unfortunate, brave lads, what can I do for you?"
"You have earned our gratitude," returned Harry Girdwood, "by the whipping you gave that cur."
"Indeed you have," chimed in young Jack, with warmth.
"How like a beaten hound he looked," said the woman. "But how can I ever hope to be forgiven by you?"
"We have nothing to forgive."
"Aye, but you have; you have saved my life and I take yours."
"Not you."
"I am the cause of it indirectly."
"Perhaps; but at any rate the innocent cause."
The girl's distress at this was painful to witness.