insisted on taking Helène to her pension in a cab, and promising to look in on her in her exile, as she put it, left her in a happier state of mind than she had known in many a day.
Miss Fisher returned to her hotel in a very thoughtful mood. She knew enough of life to guess that her young acquaintance was a gently nurtured girl of a refined family, unhappily thrown upon her own scant resources, and in danger of being wrecked on the rocks. Her beauty, her gentle ways and voice, the pure, simple mind she had shown, all had made an indelible impression on her and had won her completely. She made up her mind to befriend her.
The next morning Helène was surprised to realize how eagerly she was looking forward to Miss Fisher’s coming. The short acquaintance, so unusually begun, had so quickly ripened under the benign influence of the American girl’s way of doing and saying things that