coins, in order that some of those, who were the
originators of her sorrows, might have bread to eat and a bed in which
to sleep.

"Mademoiselle," she said warmly, "truly you shame me, who am also
French-born, with the many sacrifices you so nobly make for those who
should have first claim on my own sympathy. Believe me, if I have
not done as much as duty demanded of me in the cause of my starving
compatriots, it has not been for lack of good-will. Is there any way
now," she added eagerly, "in which I can help you? Putting aside the
question of money, wherein I pray you to command my assistance, what can
I do to be of useful service to you?"

"You are very kind, Lady Blakeney..." said the other hesitatingly.

"Well? What is it? I see there is something in your mind..."

"It is perhaps difficult to express... but people say I have a good
voice... I sing some French ditties... they are a novelty in England, I
think.... If I could sing them in fashionable salons... I might
perhaps..."

"Nay! you shall sing in fashionable salons," exclaimed Marguerite
eagerly, "you shall become the fashion, and I'll swear the Prince of
Wales himself shall bid you sing at Carlton House... and you shall name
your own fee, Mademoiselle... and London society shall vie with the
elite of Bath, as to which shall lure you to its most frequented
routs.... There! there! you shall make a fortune for the Paris poor...
and to prove to you that I mean every word I say, you shall begin your
triumphant career in my own salon to-morrow night. His Royal Highness
will be present. You shall sing your most engaging songs... and for
your fee you must accept a hundred guineas, which you shall send to
the poorest workman's club in Paris in the name of Sir Percy and Lady
Blakeney."

"I thank your ladyship, but..."

"You'll not refuse?"

"I'll accept gladly... but... you will understand... I am not very old,"
said Candeille quaintly, "I... I am only an actress... but if a young
actress is unprotected... then..."

"I understand," replied Marguerite gently, "that you are far too pretty
to frequent the world all alone, and that you have a mother, a sister
or a friend... which?... whom you would wish to escort you to-morrow. Is
that it?"

"Nay," rejoined the actress, with marked bitterness, "I have neither
mother, nor sister, but our Revolutionary Government, with tardy
compassion for those it has so relentlessly driven out of France,
has deputed a repres