had no money; I was very
hungry and tired. I sat down on a step and cried, and at last some one
said to me, 'What is the matter, my poor child?' And I looked up,
frightened, and saw an old man with a long gray beard and very dark eyes
and a kind face stooping over me. That was Signor Guido Lalli, of the
Frivolity."

"I remember him in the band quite well," said Hubert. "He had a good
face."

"Had he not?" exclaimed the girl, with sudden passion. "He was the
kindest, wisest, best man I ever knew! I could not help trusting him, he
looked so good. He made me tell him all about myself, and then he took
me with him to the boarding-house in Euston Road where he lived, and
said that he would be responsible to the landlady for me until I got
something to do. And Mrs. Wadsley was so fond of him that she took me on
trust for his sake. I don't believe she ever suspected how little he
really knew about me. And next day he took me to some friends of his,
and between them they got me a little engagement at a theatre; and then
I had a small speaking part, and so on--you know as well as I do how
young actresses go from step to step--so that I was able to support
myself after a time, and be no longer a burden upon him."

"And would he not let you sing?"

"No; he gave me lessons every day, and made me practise a long time; but
I had to promise him that I would not sing to anybody but himself
unless--unless I were obliged. I used to be angry about it; but he was
so good to me that I always gave in to him in the end. I fancy now that
he had a purpose in it all. When I was sufficiently trained, he wanted
to take me to Mapleson or some other great _impresario_, and get him to
bring me out in opera."

"Very likely. But you say he died?"

"Yes," said the girl, with a sigh, "he died--suddenly too, so that he
did not even say good-bye. He was found dead one morning in his bed.
Since then I have been all alone in the world; and I think Mr. Ferguson
knew it, and wanted to take advantage of my position."

"No doubt of it."

"So then, as I had no engagement at the theatre, I thought I would see
whether my voice would do anything for me. And, as I told you last
night, I made up my mind to speak to you."

Hubert had stood with his arms on the piano, looking gravely down on the
girl's bent face as she told her story. As she paused, she raised her
head, and her great dark eyes looked straight into his with an
expression of mute appeal which