ast message troubled him. As soon as the day's
work was over, however, and he stepped into his cab, he dismissed
it entirely from his thoughts. It was curious how, notwithstanding
this new seriousness which had come into his life, notwithstanding
that sensation of walking all the time on the brink of a precipice,
he set his face homeward and looked forward to his evening, with a
pleasure which he had not felt for many months. The whirl of the
day faded easily from his mind. He lived no more in an atmosphere
of wild excitement, of changing prices, of feverish anxiety. How
empty his life must have unconsciously grown that he could find so
much pleasure in being kind to a pretty child! It was hard to think
of her otherwise--impossible. A strange heritage, this, to have
been left him by such a person as Arthur Morrison. How in the world,
he wondered, did he happen to have such a connection.

She was a little shy when she arrived. Laverick had left special
orders downstairs, and she was brought up into his sitting-room
immediately. She was very quietly dressed except for her hat,
which was large and wavy. He found it becoming, but he knew enough
to understand that her clothes were very simple and very inexpensive,
and he was conscious of being curiously glad of the fact.

"I am afraid," she said timidly, with a glance at his evening attire,
"that we must go somewhere very quiet. You see, I have only one
evening gown and I couldn't wear that. There wouldn't be time to
change afterwards. Besides, one's clothes do get so knocked about
in the dressing-rooms."

"There are heaps of places we can go to," he assured her pleasantly.
"Of course you can't, dress for the evening when you have to go on
to work, but you must remember that there are a good many other
smart young ladies in the same position. I had to change because I
have taken a stall to see your performance. Tell me, how are you
feeling now?"

"Rather lonely," she admitted, making a pathetic little grimace.
"That is to say I have been feeling lonely," she added softly. "I
don't now, of course.

"You are a queer little person," he said kindly, as they went down
in the lift. "Haven't you any friends?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"What sort of friends could I have?" she asked. "The girls in the
chorus with me are very nice, some of them, but they know so many
people whom I don't, and they are always out to supper, or something
of the sort."