a tone so low and solemn that
they seemed like a prayer become unconsciously vocal. The agitating
impression this forsaken girl was making on him stirred a fibre that
lay close to his deepest interest in the fates of women--"perhaps my
mother was like this one." The old thought had come now with a new
impetus of mingled feeling, and urged that exclamation in which both
East and West have for ages concentrated their awe in the presence of
inexorable calamity.

The low-toned words seemed to have some reassurance in them for the
hearer: she stepped forward close to the boat's side, and Deronda put
out his hand, hoping now that she would let him help her in. She had
already put her tiny hand into his which closed around it, when some
new thought struck her, and drawing back she said--

"I have nowhere to go--nobody belonging to me in all this land."

"I will take you to a lady who has daughters," said Deronda,
immediately. He felt a sort of relief in gathering that the wretched
home and cruel friends he imagined her to be fleeing from were not in
the near background. Still she hesitated, and said more timidly than
ever--

"Do you belong to the theatre?"

"No; I have nothing to do with the theatre," said Deronda, in a decided
tone. Then beseechingly, "I will put you in perfect safety at once;
with a lady, a good woman; I am sure she will be kind. Let us lose no
time: you will make yourself ill. Life may still become sweet to you.
There are good people--there are good women who will take care of you."

She drew backward no more, but stepped in easily, as if she were used
to such action, and sat down on the cushions.

"You had a covering for your head," said Deronda.

"My hat?" (She lifted up her hands to her head.) "It is quite hidden in
the bush."

"I will find it," said Deronda, putting out his hand deprecatingly as
she attempted to rise. "The boat is fixed."

He jumped out, found the hat, and lifted up the saturated cloak,
wringing it and throwing it into the bottom of the boat.

"We must carry the cloak away, to prevent any one who may have noticed
you from thinking you have been drowned," he said, cheerfully, as he
got in again and presented the old hat to her. "I wish I had any other
garment than my coat to offer you. But shall you mind throwing it over
your shoulders while we are on the water? It is quite an ordinary thing
to do, when people return late and are not enough provided with wraps."
He held ou