alone and buffeted by the world, her one
prayer is that he will leave her."

"He will!" cried the Unknown. "He will. He does."

"Leave me, yes, leave me," exclaimed Winnifred.

"I will," said the Unknown.

"Do, do," sobbed the distraught girl. "Yet stay, one moment more. Let
she, who has received so much from her benefactor, at least know his
name."

"He cannot! He must not!" exclaimed the Indistinguishable. "His birth is
such--but enough!"

He tore his hand from the girl's detaining clasp and rushed forth from
the place.

Winnifred Clair was alone.

CHAPTER III

FRIENDS IN DISTRESS

Winnifred was now in the humblest lodgings in the humblest part of
London. A simple bedroom and sitting-room sufficed for her wants. Here
she sat on her trunk, bravely planning for the future.

"Miss Clair," said the Landlady, knocking at the door, "do try to eat
something. You must keep up your health. See, I've brought you a
kippered herring."

Winnifred ate the herring, her heart filled with gratitude. With renewed
strength she sallied forth on the street to resume her vain search for
employment. For two weeks now Winnifred Clair had sought employment even
of the humblest character. At various dress-making establishments she
had offered, to no purpose, the services of her needle. They had looked
at it and refused it.

In vain she had offered to various editors and publishers the use of her
pen. They had examined it coldly and refused it.

She had tried fruitlessly to obtain a position of trust. The various
banks and trust companies to which she had applied declined her
services. In vain she had advertised in the newspapers offering to take
sole charge of a little girl. No one would give her one.

Her slender stock of money which she had in her purse on leaving Mr.
Bonehead's office was almost consumed.

Each night the unhappy girl returned to her lodging exhausted with
disappointment and fatigue.

Yet even in her adversity she was not altogether friendless.

Each evening, on her return home, a soft tap was heard at the door.

"Miss Clair," said the voice of the Landlady, "I have brought you a
fried egg. Eat it. You must keep up your strength."

Then one morning a terrible temptation had risen before her.

"Miss Clair," said the manager of an agency to which she had applied, "I
am glad to be able at last to make you a definite offer of employment.
Are you prepared to go upon the stage?"

The stage!