ward?"

"My dear young lady," he said, "I do not ask you to risk your life,
however remotely, for nothing. I would give half my fortune, were it
necessary, to win your consent. As it is, I promise you freedom and
independence. You shall live the life which seems good to you. You will
be removed into another sphere altogether, and it is possible that you
may take with you a somewhat cloudy recollection of this portion of your
life. Your reward will be an established position in the world and an
honorable one. Beyond this I cannot say a single word. In fact, you must
consider the whole thing as only a possibility.

"I consent," she said simply.

There was a momentary flash in his gray eyes--otherwise he showed no
emotion. He had long since taken her consent as a matter of course.

"There is one thing more which is necessary," he said. "You must tell me
who you are, and if you have any friends who would be likely to make
inquiries for you. I take it for granted that you have no closer ties.
It is imperative that I have this knowledge."

She looked up at him with white face. "Do you mean that?"

"You can surely see the necessity for it yourself," he answered. "You
are virtually going to change your identity. The Eleanor Surtoes of a
month hence will know nothing of your past. Some one must be entrusted
with that knowledge."

"It is a great pain to me," she said wearily, "to speak of it at all.
But to-night nothing seems to matter. My name is Eleanor Surtoes
Marston. My father was Sir Robert Marston. He was a banker at
Hull--Ellifield, Marston and Ellifield. You read the papers. I dare say
you remember."

He inclined his head slowly.

"My mother was dead. I had neither brother nor sister, nor any friends
save those whom my father's prodigality had brought together. When
exposure came, my father killed himself. He left a letter telling me
where to find a large sum of money which he had put on one side. He had
meant to leave England secretly. I returned the money to the bank. They
heard afterward that I was destitute, and they sent me ten pounds. I
came to London, and did my best to get a situation, but I was ignorant,
ill brought up, and uselessly educated. I could do a great many things
in a small way, but nothing well enough to teach. With only a few
shillings left, I wrote to a large firm of drapers in Hull with whom I
had dealt. They sent me an introduction to Bearmain's, and I entered
their employ as a shop gi