"Perhaps she will oblige me with her name," said Michael, timidly. "I won't show her up till she do," said this mite of a servant, who had been scolded by Nancy for not extracting that information on Helen's last visit. "Of course, I must receive her," said Michael, half consulting the mite; it belonged to a sex which promptly assumes the control of such gentle creatures as he was. "Is Miss Rouse in the way?" said he. The mite laughed, and said: "She is only gone down the street. I'll send her in to take care on you." With this she went off, and in due course led Helen up the stairs. She ran in, and whispered in Michael's ear-- "It is Miss Helen Rolleston." Thus they announced a lady at No. 3. Michael stared with wonder at so great a personage visiting him; and the next moment Helen glided into the room, blushing a little, and even panting inaudibly, but all on her guard. She saw before her a rather stately figure, and a face truly venerable, benignant and beautiful, though deficient in strength. She cast a devouring glance on him as she courtesied to him; and it instantly flashed across her, "But for you there would be no Robert Penfold." There was an unconscious tenderness in her voice as she spoke to him, for she had to open the interview. "Mr. Penfold, I fear my visit may surprise you, as you did not write to me. But, when you hear what I am come about, I think you will not be displeased with me for coming." "Displeased, madam! I am highly honored by your visit--a lady who, I understand, is to be married to my worthy employer, Mr. Arthur. Pray be seated, madam." "Thank you, sir." Helen began in a low, thrilling voice, to which, however, she gave firmness by a resolute effort of her will. "I am come to speak to you of one who is very dear to you, and to all who really know him." "Dear to me? It is my son. The rest are gone. It is Robert." And he began to tremble. "Yes, it is Robert," said she, very softly; then turning her eyes away from him, lest his emotion should overcome her, she said-- "He has laid me and my father under deep obligations." She dragged her father in; for it was essential not to show Mr. Penfold she was in love with Robert. "Obligations to my Robert? Ah, madam, it is very kind of you to say that, and cheer a desolate father's heart with praise of his lost son! But how could a poor unfortunate man in his position serve a lady like you?" "He defended me against robbers, single-handed." "Ah," said the old man, glowing with pride, and looking more beautiful than ever, "he was always as brave as a lion." "That is nothing; he saved my life again, and again, and again." "God bless him for it! and God bless you for coming and telling me of it! Oh, madam, he was always brave, and gentle, and just, and good; so noble, so unfortunate." And the old man began to cry.