emed to
have given her a wonderful delicacy. The curve of her lips and the soft
light in her gray eyes, were still as potent as ever. When she thought,
though, what a poor asset her appearance had been, the color flamed in
her cheeks.

In Broadway she made her way to a very magnificent block of buildings,
and passing inside took the lift to the seventh floor. Here she got out
and knocked timidly at a glass-paneled door, on which was inscribed the
name of Mr. Anthony Cruxhall. A very superior young man bade her enter
and inquired her business.

"I wish to see Mr. Cruxhall for a moment, privately," she said. "I
shall not detain him for more than a minute. My name is Franklin--Miss
Beatrice Franklin."

The young man's lips seemed about to shape themselves into a whistle,
but something in the girl's face made him change his mind.

"I guess the boss is in," he admitted. "He's just got back from a big
meeting, but I am not sure about his seeing any one to-day. However,
I'll tell him that you're here."

He disappeared into an inner room. Presently he came out again and held
the door open.

"Will you walk right in, Miss Franklin?" he invited.

Beatrice went in bravely enough, but her knees began to tremble when
she found herself in the presence of the man she had come to visit. Mr.
Anthony Cruxhall was not a pleasant-looking person. His cheeks were fat
and puffy, he wore a diamond ring upon the finger of his too-white hand,
and a diamond pin in his somewhat flashily arranged necktie. He was
smoking a black cigar, which he omitted to remove from between his teeth
as he welcomed his visitor.

"So you've come to see me at last, little Miss Beatrice!" he said, with
a particularly unpleasant smile. "Come and sit down here by the side of
me. That's right, eh? Now what can I do for you?"

Beatrice was trembling all over. The man's eyes were hateful, his smile
was hideous.

"I have not a cent in the world, Mr. Cruxhall," she faltered, "I cannot
get an engagement, I have been turned out of my rooms, and I am hungry.
My father always told me that you would be a friend if at any time it
happened that I needed help. I am very sorry to have to come and beg,
yet that is what I am doing. Will you lend or give me ten or twenty
dollars, so that I can go on for a little longer? Or will you help me to
get a place among some of your theatrical people?"

Mr. Cruxhall puffed steadily at his cigar for a moment, and leaning back
in his