pless than I, for in all this England he has
not even one friend."

It needed only these words and the glance that accompanied them to turn
the doubtful notion that was in the Doctor's mind into a resolve. But
he had a sufficient sense of his own imprudence even now to hesitate a
little before speaking again.

"Mademoiselle," he said gently, "I know that a lad such as your brother
must be often placed at a great disadvantage in his endeavors to get on
if, as you say, he is alone and friendless. Being a foreigner increases
the difficulty, no doubt. You must let me see if I cannot remedy it."

"You will help him!" cried Alexia eagerly. She rose, her face flushing,
her eyes sparkling. It was the first time he had seen them shine so,
the first time that a crimson flush had dispelled that curious ivory
pallor; her beauty dazzled him; he thought her grateful for the help
offered to a brother whom she loved. In her heart, with perfect
coolness, she was thinking him a fool, and triumphing in the victory
which she foresaw that she would win through his folly. It was her
first full knowledge of her power over him. "Tell me what I must do?"
she exclaimed.

"Write to your brother, and tell him to come here," returned the
Doctor. He spoke quickly, refusing to doubt or falter. "I have no doubt
I shall be able to help him to a fitting situation before long. Until
then he must remain here. You will have at least the satisfaction of
knowing that he is safe then. You--you do not object to the
suggestion?" he added with sudden humility, afraid that he might have
spoken too coolly, too imperatively. With a sudden movement she seized
his hand and pressed it.

"Object--I? Ah, sir, how can I, when you are so good, so more than
kind?" She stopped, faltering. "My poor Gustave shall thank you--I
cannot. For what can I say but, Thank you a hundred times!"

"Tut, tut!" said the Doctor lightly, recovering his self-possession as
she released his hand. "You make too much of it--it is nothing. I am
only too pleased to be able to serve you. You will write to your
brother?"

"At once, sir." She was turning to the door, when a thought occurred to
him--a last lingering touch of prudence and caution made him say:

"Mademoiselle, you have not told me. How did your brother know where
you were--where to write to you?"

"By the papers, sir--by what you call the reports of police," she said,
turning and replying without the least hesitation. "It was