cab
at the door, and I propose a drive right out into the country, and when
we get back you will ask me to tea. It will be a squeeze, but you will
forgive that."

Poor Mrs Lane's face looked drawn in its pitiful aspect. She felt that
such a trip would be like so much new life to her child, but she could
not go, and she shook her head.

"It may not be etiquette, perhaps," said Richard, quietly, "but I shall
ask you to waive that, and let me take Netta here. You know it will do
her good, and she will have Mr Jenkles, as well as your humble servant,
to take care of her."

Mrs Lane looked him searchingly in the face, which was as open as the
day, and then, glancing at Netta, she saw her parted lips and look of
intense longing. The refusal that had been imminent passed away, and
laying her hand upon the young man's arm, she said, softly--

"I will trust you."

There was something almost painful in the look of joy in Netta's face
as, with trembling eagerness, she threw her arms round her mother, and
then, with the excitement of a child, hurried away to put on hat and
mantle.

"I shall be back directly," she exclaimed.

Richard's heart gave one heavy painful throb as he turned for an instant
at the door.

Mrs Lane laid her hand upon his arm as soon as they were alone, and
once more looked searchingly into his face.

"I ought not to do this," she said, pitifully. "You're almost a
stranger; but it is giving her what she has so little of--pleasure;
more, it is like giving her life. You know--you see how ill she is?"

"Poor child, yes," said Richard.

"Child!"

"Yes," said Richard, gravely. "I have always looked upon her as a
child--or, at least, as a young, innocent girl. Mrs Lane, I tell you
frankly, for I think I can read your feelings--every look, every
attention of mine towards that poor girl has been the result of pity.
If you could read me, I think you would never suspect me of trifling."

"I am ready to trust you," she said. "You will not be late. The night
air would be dangerous for her--hush!"

"I'm ready!" exclaimed Netta, joyfully.

As she appeared framed in the doorway of the inner room, her dark hair
cast back, eyes sparkling, and the flush as of health upon her cheeks,
and lips parted to show her pure white teeth, Richard's heart gave
another painful throb, and he thought of Frank Pratt's words, for it was
no child that stood before him, but a very beautiful woman.

"You'll be back b