let me take you to them?"

She stepped out obediently, putting her hand in his and forgetting her
hat; and when Deronda led her into the full light of the parlor where
the four little women stood awaiting her, she made a picture that would
have stirred much duller sensibilities than theirs. At first she was a
little dazed by the sudden light, and before she had concentrated her
glance he had put her hand into the mother's. He was inwardly rejoicing
that the Meyricks were so small: the dark-curled head was the highest
among them. The poor wanderer could not be afraid of these gentle faces
so near hers: and now she was looking at each of them in turn while the
mother said, "You must be weary, poor child."

"We will take care of you--we will comfort you--we will love you,"
cried Mab, no longer able to restrain herself, and taking the small
right hand caressingly between both her own. This gentle welcoming
warmth was penetrating the bewildered one: she hung back just enough to
see better the four faces in front of her, whose good will was being
reflected in hers, not in any smile, but in that undefinable change
which tells us that anxiety is passing in contentment. For an instant
she looked up at Deronda, as if she were referring all this mercy to
him, and then again turning to Mrs. Meyrick, said with more
collectedness in her sweet tones than he had heard before--

"I am a stranger. I am a Jewess. You might have thought I was wicked."

"No, we are sure you are good," burst out Mab.

"We think no evil of you, poor child. You shall be safe with us," said
Mrs. Meyrick. "Come now and sit down. You must have some food, and then
you must go to rest."

The stranger looked up again at Deronda, who said--

"You will have no more fears with these friends? You will rest
to-night?"

"Oh, I should not fear. I should rest. I think these are the
ministering angels."

Mrs. Meyrick wanted to lead her to seat, but again hanging back gently,
the poor weary thing spoke as if with a scruple at being received
without a further account of herself.

"My name is Mirah Lapidoth. I am come a long way, all the way from
Prague by myself. I made my escape. I ran away from dreadful things. I
came to find my mother and brother in London. I had been taken from my
mother when I was little, but I thought I could find her again. I had
trouble--the houses were all gone--I could not find her. It has been a
long while, and I had not much money. That