kindly.

"I see a very old man--older than my own dear father was when he
died--and I know he is too old and feeble to be out at night in the wet
and stormy weather. I know that he is ill and weak, and suffering from
exhaustion, and that he must rest and be well nourished for a few days
till he gets strong again. And I am going to take care of him,"--here
she gave a consoling little pressure to the hand she held. "I am
indeed! And he must do as he is told, and take off his wet clothes and
get ready for bed!"

Something in Helmsley's throat tightened like the contraction of a
rising sob.

"You will risk all this trouble,"--he faltered--"for a
stranger--who--who--cannot repay you--?----"

"Now, now! You mustn't hurt me!" she said, with a touch of reproach in
her soft tones--"I don't want to be repaid in any way. You know WHO it
was that said 'I was a stranger and ye took me in'? Well, He would wish
me to take care of you."

She spoke quite simply, without any affectation of religious sentiment.
Helmsley looked at her steadily.

"Is that why you shelter me?"

She smiled very sweetly, and he saw that her eyes were beautiful.

"That is one reason, certainly!"--she answered; "But there is
another,--quite a selfish one! I loved my father, and when he died, I
lost everything I cared for in the world. You remind me of him--just a
little. Now will you do as I ask you, and take off your wet things?"

He let go her hand gently.

"I will,"--he said, unsteadily--for there were tears in his eyes--"I
will do anything you wish. Only tell me your name!"

"My name? My name is Mary,--Mary Deane."

"Mary Deane!" he repeated softly--and yet again--"Mary Deane! A pretty
name! Shall I tell you mine!"

"Not unless you like,"--she replied, quickly--"It doesn't matter!"

"Oh, you'd better know it!" he said--"I'm only old David--a man 'on the
road' tramping it to Cornwall."

"That's a long way!" she murmured compassionately, as she took his
weather-beaten hat and shook the wet from it--"And why do you want to
tramp so far, you poor old David?"

"I'm looking for a friend,"--he answered--"And maybe it's no use
trying,--but I should like to find that friend before I die."

"And so you will, I'm sure!" she declared, smiling at him, but with
something of an anxious expression in her eyes, for Helmsley's face was
very pinched and pallid, and every now and then he shivered violently as
with an ague fit--"But you must pick up your st