ppier than he was himself.

"I comforted her as well as I could, but I didn't know what would become
of us. Then a lady, who had a room next to mine in the hotel, heard me
crying, and was very kind."

"I should think she would have been," interrupted the young man.

"She told me that, as my mother had lost everything, she had better go
to the Direction of the Casino, and get what they call a viatique--money
to go away with. So she did ask, though it was a great ordeal to make
up her mind to do it; and they gave my mother a thousand francs. Then,
you know, she had no right to play in the Rooms again; she was supposed
to pay her hotel bill, and leave Monte Carlo. But she gave half the
money to a woman she had met in the Rooms, and asked her to put it on
six numbers she had dreamed about; she was sure that this time she would
win."

"And did she?"

"No. The money was lost. We hadn't enough left to settle our account at
the hotel, or to get away from the place, even if there were anywhere to
go--when one has no pennies. So my mother begged me to slip into the
Rooms, with what was left, and try to get something back. I had been
trying when you saw me, with our last louis. Now you know why it seemed
so good to see a man I knew, a face I could trust. Now you know why I,
who had had such misfortunes, was glad at least to bring you luck."

"It's my turn to bring you some, I think," began the man she could
trust; but she stopped him by putting up her plump little white hand.

"If you mean with money, no," she said, with soft decision that was
pretty and sad to hear. "If you mean with advice, yes. If you could only
get me something to do! You see, they will be turning us out of our
hotel to-morrow. They've let us keep our rooms on, up to now, but for
two days they've not given us anything to eat. Of course, it can't go on
like this. If it hadn't been for you, I think when I went back to tell
my mother that the last louis of the viatique was gone, we would have
killed ourselves."

"Great Heaven, you must promise me not to do that," the young man
implored.

"I will promise, now, for you have saved me by--caring a little. You do
care, really, don't you?"

"I wouldn't have blood in my veins, if I didn't. But--about something
for you to do--I must think."

"Are you staying here for some time?" asked the girl.

"I haven't made up my mind."

"I asked because I--I suppose you don't need a secretary, do you? I can
write su