d Hubert thoughtfully, "because I know I wrote
it; but an author does not always recall his old stories very
accurately, Miss West. It was a short tale for a Christmas number, I
know. What was there in it that could cause you to honor me in this way,
I wonder?"

"Ah, don't laugh at me, please, Mr. Lepel!" Cynthia's voice was so sweet
in its entreating tones that Hubert thought he had never heard anything
more musical. "It was all about a girl who was poor like me, and whose
parents were dead, and about her adventures, you know--particularly
about her not being able to get any work to do, and nearly throwing
herself into the river. I have had the thought more than once lately
that it would end with me in that way--the river looks so deep and
silent and mysterious--doesn't it? But that's all nonsense, I suppose!
However, when I read about Amy in the old Christmas number, that my
landlady lent me the other night, it came to my mind that I had seen you
behind the scenes, and that, if you could write in that way, you might
be more ready--ready to help----" She stopped short, a little breathless
after her long and tremulous speech.

"My poor child," said Hubert, with the tender accent that showed that he
was moved, "I am afraid it does not always follow. However, let us take
the most cheerful view possible of all things, even of novelists, and
try to believe that they practise what they preach. It would be hard if
I did not prove worthy of your confidence, Miss West. I am sure I don't
know whether I will be able to do anything for you or not, but I will
see."

"Thank you, Mr. Lepel."

She said the words very low, and drew a quick breath of relief as she
said them. By the light of a gas-lamp under which they were passing at
the moment Hubert saw that she had turned very pale. He halted suddenly.

"I am very thoughtless," he said, "not to recollect that you must be
tired, and that I am perhaps taking you out of your way."

"No," said Cynthia simply; "I always go this way. I lodge at a
boarding-house in the Euston Road."

"Then let us to business at once!" exclaimed Mr. Lepel, in a cheerful
tone. "What sort of engagement do you want, Miss West?"

She was silent for a minute or two. Then she said, with some unusual
timidity of manner--

"I should very much like to have an engagement at a place where I could
sing."

"Sing!" repeated Hubert, arching his brows a little. "Can you sing? Have
you a voice?"

"Yes," said C