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. Ind