Adrien Leroy. Charles Garvice

as the shawl fell back from her head, Leroy was almost startled by the vivid freshness of her beauty.

      "Oh," she exclaimed in terrified accents, "I wasn't doing any harm! I will move on--I--I was only resting." Then, as she saw the kindly face looking into hers, she subsided into silence.

      She was quite young, not more than about sixteen, and so slenderly formed as to appear almost a child. Her features were clear-cut as a cameo and she had a slightly foreign air. Her eyes were brown, but as the light of the gas-lamp fell full on her upturned face, they showed so dark and velvety as almost to appear black, while masses of dark hair clustered in heavy waves round her forehead.

      Unconsciously Leroy raised his hat as he repeated his question. She shook her head at him as he bent over her, but made no reply.

      "How is it you are out on such a night as this?" he asked. "Have you no home? Where do you live?"

      "Cracknell Court, Soho," she replied, in tones singularly free from any trace of Cockney accent.

      "With your parents?" queried Leroy, feeling for some money.

      "No," said the girl, her red lips quivering for a moment. "Haven't got any--only Johann and Martha--and they don't care."

      "Who is Johann?" said Leroy, with an encouraging smile.

      "I don't know," she answered listlessly. "He's Johann Wilfer, that's all."

      "Why have you run away, then?"

      "Johann came home drunk and beat me--so I ran out."

      She pushed back her ragged shawl and held up her arm, on which bruises showed up cruelly distinct. Leroy uttered an exclamation of anger.

      "You poor child!" he said almost tenderly. "What can I do for you? If I give you money----"

      "Johann will take it and make me beg for more," she interrupted; and Leroy withdrew his hand from his pocket, fearing this to be but too true.

      "Will you go home, if I take you?" he began.

      The girl shook her head, and dragged the old shawl closer round her shivering body.

      "Not till morning," she said decidedly. "I shall be all right then."

      "But you'll freeze to death here!"

      She laughed harshly.

      "I wish I was dead," she said, with an earnestness that made Leroy's heart ache, as he thought of her extreme youth and saw the bitter despair in the great dark eyes.

      He drew himself up sharply as if he had decided on his course of action.

      "I cannot leave you here," he said quietly, "and money is of no use to you to-night. Will you come with me?" He held out his hand as he spoke, and, without a word, the girl rose wearily and laid her own cold one in his. They proceeded thus, in silence, for the length of the square; but Leroy soon saw that, whether, from cold or from hunger, the girl's steps were growing feebler and more uncertain. Without further ado, he picked her up in his arms, wrapping her shawl more warmly round her.

      "We are nearly there," he said reassuringly, "and you are as light as a feather."

      She lay back, perfectly content, her head pressed against his broad shoulder, her dark eyes closed trustfully.

      Adrien Leroy hurried on, for the wind cut with the force of a knife; but his face was very thoughtful as he approached his chambers.

      "What else can I do?" he asked himself. "She is such an innocent child. Can I take her to my rooms without injury to her poor shred of reputation? Yet no houses are open at this hour, and I cannot hand her over to that drunken brute. There's no help for it!"

      It evidently never occurred to him to turn back and deliver her into the charge of Miss Lester. Indeed, he thought that would have been greater cruelty than to have left her in the streets.

      Having reached the block of buildings in which were his own rooms, Adrien walked up the stairs and opened a door on the first floor. In the hall a light was burning, held by a statuette of white marble; and Leroy, after gently setting the girl down on her feet, led her into his study.

      The room in which she found herself was not lofty, but the ceiling was exquisitely painted, while from the four corners hung electric lights 'neath delicate shades. The furniture was rich in colour, solid as befitted a man's room, while on the walls were a few rare engravings. A couple of gun-cases in one corner and a veritable stock of fishing implements in another showed that Leroy was not unaccustomed to sport; it was one of his man Norgate's complaints that he was not allowed to pack them away, but must leave them there, close at hand, just as Leroy might want them.

      It was not these, however, that held the girl's attention so fixedly, but the cut Venetian glass on the inlaid cabinets and the gold ornaments on the carved Florentine mantel.

      "Home at last," he said with a smile; and, opening another door on the left, he led her unresistingly into a second room.

      But here the girl seemed as if struck dumb with astonishment. She was evidently overwhelmed by the magnificence and luxury on which her eyes rested, and Leroy smiled in amusement at her unspoken admiration.

      "Come and warm yourself," he said kindly, drawing one of the divans nearer to the fire.

      Lightly she trod over the rose carpet, and dropped with a sigh into the chair.

      "Give me your hands. Don't hold them near the fire yet," he said, and began to gently chafe the poor blue fingers, for he knew the danger of too sudden heat. "That is better--they will soon get warm. And now we will have something to eat."

      He crossed over to the bell; and in a few moments the door opened noiselessly.

      "Let us have some supper, Norgate," said Leroy; and the dignified man-servant disappeared as silently as he had entered, while his master returned to the fire-place, and stood looking down at the girl he had rescued.

      As yet she had not spoken; but her eyes had been wandering over the many splendours of the room. Suddenly she lifted them to the handsome face above her, and said in a low, awe-struck whisper:

      "Is this the king's palace? And are you a prince?"

      Adrien Leroy smiled.

      "By no means," he said. "Ah! here comes something you require, I know," he added, as the door opened, and Norgate entered, bearing a large silver tray.

      Having set the chairs to table, and placed the wine and glasses at hand, the man announced respectfully that supper was served. His master dismissed him, guessing that the girl would be less embarrassed if alone with him; and Norgate retired with a face as expressionless as if the entertaining of "street waifs"--as he mentally termed the young visitor--were of nightly occurrence.

      Adrien placed a plate of cold chicken on a low table beside her.

      "You are warm there," he said, as he poured her out a glass of wine.

      The girl looked up into his face with a mute, questioning glance; then, taking courage from the kindly eyes, she picked up her knife and fork with long, thin, but well-shaped hands.

      Leroy turned to the table, and by dint of helping himself from various dishes, under a pretence of making a hearty meal, he gave her confidence; and presently he saw that she had commenced to eat. Adrien rose from time to time, and waited on her with a delicacy and tenderness with which few of his friends would have credited him; till, with a sigh of content, she laid down the knife and fork.

      "Are you better now?" he asked as he took her plate.

      She looked up at him in speechless adoration, and her eyes filled with tears.

      "How good you are to me," she said. "I never dreamt there could be such a beautiful place as this. Do you often bring people in out of the cold?"

      His face became grave.

      "No," he said evasively--"not as often as I should, I'm afraid. And