s a
kindness in his look that did away both with resentment and regret.

"They say she has literally no friends in England," he went on, with
unconcealed concern. "That is incredible; and yet, if there be any truth
in it, what a terrible position! I fear that everybody will not share
your conviction, and, I may add, my own. If one can judge thus early by
what one has heard and seen for oneself, this verdict is a personal
disappointment to the always bloodthirsty man in the street. Then, God
help the poor lady if he spots her! I only hope she will not give him a
chance."

And now Rachel not only knew that he knew, but that he wished to apprise
her of his knowledge without confessing it in so many words. So he would
spare her that embarrassment, and would help her if he could, this utter
stranger! Yet she saw it in his face, she heard it in his voice; and
becoming gradually alive to his will to help her, as she instinctively
was to his power, she had herself the will to consult one whose good
intention and better tact were alike obvious. Mystery there was in her
meeting with this man; something told her that it was no accident on his
side; she began to wonder whether she had not seen him before; and while
she wondered he came and sat opposite to her, and went on speaking in a
lower voice, his dark eyes fixed on hers.

"If Mrs. Minchin wants a friend--and to-night I think she must--if ever
she did or will! Well, if she does, I for one would be her friend--if
she would trust me!"

The last words were the lowest of all; and in the tone of them there was
a timbre which thrilled Rachel as the dark eyes fascinated her. She
began to feel a strange repugnance--and yet more strange attraction. But
to the latter her independence gave instant battle--a battle the easier
to fight since the next station was Rachel's destination.

"Do you think she would trust me?" he almost whispered leaning towards
her. "As a woman--don't you think she might?"

As Rachel hesitated the carriages began to groan beneath the brake; and
her hesitation was at an end. So also was her limited capacity for
pretence. She sat more upright in her corner, her shoulders fell in
angles, and beneath the veil, which she had raised to read her paper,
her eyes carried the war of interrogation into the enemy's country.

"I seem to have seen you before," said Rachel, cool of tongue but hot at
heart.

"I think it very possible that you have."

"Were you at the