"Helmsley! Not David Helmsley!"

"Yes,--David Helmsley! The 'poor old tramp' you sheltered in your
home,--the friendless and penniless stranger you cared for so
unselfishly and tenderly, was one of the richest men in the world!"

She stood amazed,--stricken as by a lightning shock.

"One of the richest men in the world!" she faltered. "One of the
richest----" and here, with a little stifled sob, she wrung her hands
together. "Oh no--no! That can't be true! He would never have deceived
me!"

Sir Francis felt an uncomfortable tightness in his throat. The
situation was embarrassing. He saw at once that she was not so much
affected by the announcement of the supposed "poor" man's riches, as by
the overwhelming thought that he could have represented himself to her
as any other than he truly was.

"Sit down again, and let me tell you all," he said gently--"You will, I
am sure, forgive him for the part he played when you know his history.
David Helmsley--who was my friend as well as my client for more than
twenty years--was a fortunate man in the way of material
prosperity,--but he was very unfortunate in his experience of human
nature. His vast wealth made it impossible for him to see much more of
men and women than was just enough to show him their worst side. He was
surrounded by people who sought to use him and his great influence for
their own selfish ends,--and the emotions and sentiments of life, such
as love, fidelity, kindness, and integrity, he seldom or never met with
among either his so-called 'friends' or his acquaintances. His wife was
false to him, and his two sons brought him nothing but shame and
dishonour. They all three died--and then--then in his old age he found
himself alone in the world without any one who loved him, or whom he
loved--without any one to whom he could confidently leave his enormous
fortune, knowing it would be wisely and nobly used. When I last saw him
I urged upon him the necessity of making his Will. He said he could not
make it, as there was no one living whom he cared to name as his heir.
Then he left London,--ostensibly on a journey for his health." Here Sir
Francis paused, looking anxiously at his listener. She was deadly pale,
and every now and then her eyes brimmed over with tears. "You can guess
the rest," he continued,--"He took no one into his confidence as to his
intention,--not even me. I understood he had gone abroad--till the other
day--a short time ago--when I had a