The white head drooped disconsolate, the slender, delicate hands wrung
each other, and then about these bowed and aged shoulders Diana
clasped protecting arm and stooped soft cheek to his.

"Ah, poor old soul, don't grieve!" she murmured. "Here's Peregrine and
me will be your friends and pals, if you'll have us, and if you're
ever very lonely or in want, come to us--wait!" Then, opening her
gipsire, and before I could prevent, into those slender fingers she
thrust a bright, new guinea; for a long moment his lordship stared
down at the coin while I grew alternately hot and cold. When at last
he lifted his white head I saw his keen eyes dimmed with unshed tears.

"Why, child?" he murmured. "Generous girl--"

"No, don't!" she smiled. "Don't say anything! Only let me be your
friend to cheer your loneliness an' help you now an' then."

Lord Wyvelstoke stared at the coin in his palm as if it had been a
very rare and curious object, then, having deposited it carefully
within an inner pocket, he bared his head in his courtly fashion.

"Diana," said he, "sweet friend, you have given me something precious
as my vanished youth and more lasting; accept a once solitary old
man's gratitude. Mr. Vereker--Peregrine, you who stand perhaps where I
stood years ago with the best of all things in your reach--grasp it,
boy, follow heart rather than head, and may you find those blessings I
have never known. Here, I think, is the advice you sought of me--for
the rest, you are a Vereker, sir, and carry honour in your name. And
now is good-bye for a time; my way lies yonder," said he, pointing