uld
possibly be Ethel Kenyon, the actress, of whom her father had been
speaking half an hour before. Yet such was the case.

She was still observing the figures at the window when the door opened,
and Sarah announced a visitor.

"Mrs. Romaine, please, ma'am."

Whereupon Lesley remembered the "very old friend" whom Mr. Brooke had
mentioned. But was this the very old friend? This young and
fashionably-dressed woman, with short, dark, curling hair, and a white
veil to enhance the whiteness of her complexion. Mrs. Romaine was very
handsome, without a doubt, but Lesley did not like her.

"Miss Brooke?" said the visitor, in a silvery, flute-like voice, which
the girl could not but admire. "You will forgive me for calling so soon?
My old friendship with Mr. Brooke--whom I have known for years--made me
anxious to see you, dear, as soon as possible. You will receive me also
as a friend, I hope----"

There could be but one answer. Lesley was delighted.

"I have heard so much of you," murmured Mrs. Romaine, sitting down with
the girl's hand in hers and gazing into her face with liquid, dreamy
eyes; "and I wanted to know if I could not be of use to you. Dear Miss
Brooke is so much occupied. I may call you Lesley, may I not? Dear
Lesley, it will be the greatest possible pleasure to me to assist you in
any way."

"Thank you very much," said Lesley, rather lamely.

"Dear," said Mrs. Romaine, "may I speak to you frankly? I knew your dear
mother many years ago----"

Lesley turned upon her with suddenly kindled eyes.

"You knew mamma?"

"I did, indeed, and I cannot express to you what my feeling was for her.
Love, admiration--these seem cold words: worship, Lesley, expresses more
nearly what I felt! Can you wonder that I hasten to welcome her daughter
to her home?"

Lesley's innocent heart warmed to the new-comer at once. How unjust she
had been, she thought, to shrink for a moment from the visitor because
of her youthful and ultra-fashionable appearance. Had she not found a
friend?--a woman who loved her mother?

Mrs. Romaine saw the impression that she had made, and did not try to
deepen it just then. She went on more lightly:

"I am a widow, you know, and I live in Russell Square. I hope that you
will come and see me sometimes. Drop in whenever you like, and if there
is anything that I can do for you count on me. You will want to go
shopping or making calls sometimes when Miss Brooke is too busy to take
you; then yo