at
him beseechingly. He did not know it; but he had entirely bidden adieu
to common-sense where Alexia Boucheafen was concerned. He said gently:

"What's the matter? Tell me? Am I to read this?"

"If you will." She let him take the letter; and he saw that it was
written in a boyish, wavering hand, and that it commenced
affectionately with her name. It was short, for the signature, to which
his eyes turned instinctively, was upon the same page, and was, "Your
brother, Gustave Boucheafen."

The Doctor repeated it aloud.

"Your brother, Mademoiselle?"

"You have heard me speak of my brother, sir?"

"Certainly--yes! But I thought he was in Paris."

"I thought so too. He was there three months ago, when I last heard
from him. But the post he held was poor, miserable, he hated it; and he
was threatening then to leave it and come to England, as I had one. He
did so a month ago, and has found that the bad could be worse, for he
writes that he is penniless, sir, and starving."

"And he writes to you for help, poor child!" exclaimed the Doctor
pityingly.

"Yes. But, ah, sir, he is so young--a boy! He is two years younger than
I am--only nineteen," Alexia urged deprecatingly. "And whom should he
ask, poor Gustave? We have no other kin who care for us."

"Where is your brother?" inquired the Doctor.

"Close here, in London; but I forget the address." She pointed to the
letter, which he still held. "Sir, if you read you will understand
better far than I can explain."

Doctor Brudenell read the letter--just such a letter as a foolish,
impulsive, reckless boy might write, and certainly describing a
condition that was desperate enough. The Doctor returned it, and asked
doubtfully:

"Mademoiselle, what do you wish me to do? You wish to help him?"

"Ah, sir--yes!" she cried eagerly, and then stopped, faltering. "But I
have no money," she said, her head drooping.

The Doctor walked to the end of the room, came back, and stood beside
her.

"My poor child, I understand you; but it must not be. Why should the
little you earn go to your brother? At the best it would help him only
for a very little time, for I see that he says he has no present
prospect of employment. In a week or two he would be in his present
state again. Something else must be done."

"Ah, sir, it is easy--so easy to speak!" said the governess bitterly.
"What else can be done? Who is there that will help him, poor Gustave?
He is even poorer, more hel