ittle halo of deep brown hair seemed to him as though
it might have belonged to some old miniature. She was delightful,
like Watteau-work upon a piece of priceless porcelain--delightful
when the lights played in her eyes and the smile quivered at the
corner of her lips. Just now, however, she became very much in
earnest.

"I will tell you why I ask that question," she said. "I cannot
help worrying still about Arthur. You know you admitted last
night that he had done something. You saw how terribly frightened
he was this morning, and how he kept on looking around as though
he were afraid that he would see somebody whom he wished to avoid.
Oh! I don't want to worry you," she went on, "but I feel so
terrified sometimes. I feel that he must have done something--bad.
It was not an ordinary business trouble which took the life out of
him so completely."

"It was not," Laverick admitted at once. "He has done something, I
believe, quite foolish; but the matter is in my hands to arrange,
and I think you can assure yourself that nothing will come of it."

"Did you tell him so this morning?" she asked eagerly.

"I did not," he answered. "I told him nothing. For many reasons
it was better to keep him ignorant. He and I might not have seen
things the same way, and I am sure that what I am doing is for the
best. If I were you, Miss Leneveu, I think I wouldn't worry any
more. Soon you will hear from your brother that he is safe in
New York, and I think I can promise you that the trouble will
never come to anything serious."

"Why have you been so kind to him?" she asked timidly. "From what
he said, I do not think that he was very useful to you, and, indeed,
you and he are so different."

Laverick was silent for a moment.

"To be honest," he said, "I think that I should not have taken so
much trouble for his sake alone. You see," he continued, smiling,
"you are rather a delightful young person, and you were very
anxious, weren't you?"

Her hand came across the table--an impulsive little gesture,
which he nevertheless found perfectly natural and delightful. He
took it into his, and would have raised the fingers to his lips
but for the waiters who were hovering around.

"You are so kind," she said, "and I am so fortunate. I think that
I wanted a friend."

"You poor child," he answered, "I should think you did. You are
not drinking your wine."

She shook her head.

"Do you mind?" she asked. "A very litt