ing in life to me," she said. "He is
all that I have left to me belonging to my own world. All these days
I have spent at his bedside, except when they have sent me away.
This evening I have come to see you. You are his child, Ruth."

Ruth turned her head slowly.

"Yes," she murmured, half fearfully.

"When Arnold brought you to Bourne End," Fenella continued, "for one
moment I looked at you and I wondered. You seemed, even then, to
remind me of some one who had existed in the past. I know now who it
was. You have something of Andrea's air, but you are very like your
mother, Ruth."

"You knew her?" Ruth asked.

"Very slightly," Fenella replied. "She was a very clever actress and
I saw her sometimes upon the stage. Sometimes I think that Andrea
did not treat her well, but that was the way of his world. Assuredly
he never treated her badly, or you and I would not be here together
now."

"I am afraid that you are sorry," Ruth said, timidly.

Fenella laid her hand almost caressingly upon the girl's shoulder.

"You need fear nothing of the sort," she assured her. "Why should I
be sorry? You are something that will remind me of him, something I
shall always be glad to have near me. You can guess why I have
come?"

Ruth made no answer for a moment. Fenella laughed, a little
imperiously.

"You poor child!" she exclaimed. "You cannot think that since I know
the truth I could leave you here for a single second? We can fetch
your clothes any time. To-night you are coming home with me."

Ruth gazed at her with straining face.

"Home?" she murmured.

"But naturally," Fenella replied. "You are my brother's child and I
am a lonely woman. Do you think that I could leave you here for a
single second? Arnold has some claims, I know," she continued. "He
can come and see you sometimes. Do not be afraid," she went on, her
voice suddenly softening. "I shall try to be kind to you. I have
been a very selfish person all my life. I think it will be good for
me to have some one to care for. Arnold, please to go and ring for
the lift. Now that I have two invalids to think about, I must not be
away for long."

He looked at Ruth for a moment. Then he obeyed her. When he
returned, Ruth was standing up, leaning upon Fenella's arm. She held
out her other hand to Arnold.

"You will help me down, please?" she begged.

It was a day of new emotions for Arnold. He was conscious suddenly
of a fierce wave of jealousy, of despair. She wa