wered, holding open the door of the
sitting-room. "Miss Morrison," he went on,--

"Miss Leneven is my name," she interrupted.

"I beg your pardon. Your brother evidently has something on his
mind apart from business. I am afraid that he has been getting
into some sort of trouble. I don't think there is any object in
bothering him about it, but the great thing is to get him away."

"You will help?" she begged.

"I will help, certainly," Laverick answered. "I have promised to.
You must see that he is ready to leave here at seven o'clock
to-morrow morning. He wants to go to New York, and the special
to catch the German boat will leave Waterloo somewhere about eight
to eight-thirty."

"But his clothes!" she cried. "How can he be ready by then?"

"Your brother does not wish me or any one to go near his rooms or
to send him any of his belongings," Laverick continued quietly.

"But how strange!" the girl exclaimed. "Do you mean to say, then,
that he is going without anything?"

"I am afraid," Laverick said kindly, "that we must take it for
granted that your brother has got mixed up in some undesirable
business or other. He is nervously anxious to keep his whereabouts
an entire secret. He has been asking me whether any one has been
to the office to inquire for him. Under the circumstances, I think
the best thing we can do is to humor him. I shall buy him before
to-morrow morning a cheap dressing-case and a ready-made suit of
clothes, and a few things for the voyage. Then I shall send a cab
for you both at seven o'clock and meet you at the station.

"You are very kind," she murmured. "What should I have done without
you? Oh, I cannot think!"

The protective instinct in the man was suddenly strong. Naturally
unaffectionate, he was conscious of an almost overmastering desire
to take her hands in his, even to lift her up and kiss away the
tears which shone in her deep, childlike eyes. He reminded himself
that she was a stranger, that her appearance of youth was a delusion,
that she could only construe such an action as a liberty, an
impertinence, offered under circumstances for which there could be
no possible excuse.

He moved away towards the door.

"Naturally," he said, "I am glad to be of use to your brother. You
see," he explained, a little awkwardly, "after all, we have been
partners in business."

He caught a look upon her face and smiled.

"Naturally, too," he continued, "it has been a g