oyle is as innocent and harmless as
a baby herself."

"Can't you tell me about her--who she is--why she lives up there--and
all?"

"Not here, Miss."

"Why not?" demanded Helen, boldly.

"It might offend Mr. Starkweather, Miss. Not that he has anything to do
with Mary Boyle. He had to take the old house with her in it."

"What _do_ you mean, Lawdor?" gasped Helen, growing more and more amazed
and--naturally--more and more curious.

The butler flopped the steak suddenly upon the sizzling hot plate and in
another moment the delicious bit was before her. The old man served her as
expertly as ever, but his face was working strangely.

"I couldn't tell you here, Miss. Walls have ears, they say," he whispered.
"But if you'll be on the first bench beyond the Sixth Avenue entrance to
Central Park at ten o'clock this morning, I will meet you there.

"Yes, Miss--the rolls. Some more butter, Miss? I hope the coffee is to
your taste, Miss?"

"It is all very delicious, Lawdor," said Helen, rather weakly, and feeling
somewhat confused. "I will surely be there. I shall not need to come back
for the regular breakfast after having this nice bit."

Helen attracted much less attention upon her usual early morning walk this
time. She was dressed in the mode, if cheaply, and she was not so
self-conscious. But, in addition, she thought but little of herself or her
own appearance or troubles while she walked briskly uptown.

It was of the little old woman, and her mystery, and the butler's words
that she thought. She strode along to the park, and walked west until she
reached the bridle-path. She had found this before, and came to see the
riders as they cantered by.

How Helen longed to put on her riding clothes and get astride a lively
mount and gallop up the park-way! But she feared that, in doing so, she
might betray to her uncle or the girls the fact that she was not the
"pauper cowgirl" they thought her to be.

She found a seat overlooking the path, at last, and rested for a while;
but her mind was not upon the riders. Before ten o'clock she had walked
back south, found the entrance to the park opposite Sixth Avenue, and sat
down upon the bench specified by the old butler. At the stroke of the hour
the old man appeared.

"You could not have walked all this way, Lawdor?" said the girl, smiling
upon him. "You are not at all winded."

"No, Miss. I took the car. I am not up to such walks as you can take," and
he shook his h