“Oh, is that so? then you must know, Helena, I am not Mr. Roylands—you must call me Maurice.”
“Maurice! Maurice! Ah, that is much nicer to say than Mr. Roylands. Yes, I will call you Maurice. I like Maurice,” she continued reflectively; “yes, I like Maurice.”
“I am very glad you like me,” he said artfully.
“Oh, I mean the name,” replied Helena, laughing at what she thought was his mistake. “But tell me, Maurice, do you now feel quite well?”
“Yes, thank you. The sleep of this afternoon has quite cured my fatigues of last night.”
“Oh, it must have been terrible!” said Helena, with a shudder; “papa told me all about it. I was so glad when Andros told us of your safety.”
“My safety, or that of Crispin?”
“I was glad for both your sakes, and indeed I am very fond of Crispin. You know, we are just like brother and sister.”
“Are you? Well, will we be brother and sister?”
“Oh yes,” she answered, frankly putting her hand into his; “I will be very glad to have another brother.”