“Any advice and help, any service in my power you may be sure shall be yours,” he said earnestly. “But let me ask you first, how was it that you did not seek the advice of some business-man, lawyer or clergyman? You are not at all of the light-headed type of those frivolous women who flock to me and to others like me. You have common sense, unalterable principles, rational instincts and personal fastidiousness, why did you not go to one of the recognized, established, honored advisers of humanity? Tell me that if you please?” “It was because of the dream,” she faltered. “The dream!” he exclaimed. “A dream sent you to me? What sort of a dream?” “I had come to feel that there could be no hope for me,” she said. “But about a month ago I had a dream in which I was told ‘The seventh advertisement in the seventh column of the seventh newspaper in the seventh drawer of the linen room will point for you the way to escape from your miseries and win what you desire.’ There should have been no papers in my linen-room and it made me feel foolish to want to go and look. Also the servants knew I never went there, so I had to watch until the housekeeper was out and no maids were on that floor. Sure enough I found seven old newspapers in the seventh drawer, and on the seventh page of the lowermost paper, on the seventh column, the seventh advertisement was yours.” “And you came to me because of that dream?” “Yes:--and;--” she hesitated. “Well,” he interrupted, “the reasons why you came are not so important. What I want to be sure of is this. Even if you were led to come by a mere coincidence acting on your feelings, are you now, from cool, deliberate reflection, determined to consult me? Would it not be better to take my advice at this point and go to one of the world’s regular, accredited dispensers of wisdom?” “I have made up my mind to consult you,” she said. “It is not a passing whim, but a settled resolve.” “Then madame,” he said, his manner wholly changing, “you must tell me all your troubles without any reservation of any kind. If I am to help you I must know your case as completely as a physician would have to know your symptoms in an illness. Tell me plainly what your trouble is.” She began to pluck at her veil with her gloved hands. “Oh,” she gasped, “let me moisten my lips. Just a swallow of water.” For all his lameness he was surprisingly agile, as he wrenched himself up, tore open the rear door and almost instantly hobbled back with a glass and silver pitcher on a small silver tray. She took off her veil and one glove. Several swallows were required to compose her. When she was calm again he sat looking at her with a face full of inquiry, but without uttering any questions. “You do not know,” she said, “how hard it is to begin.” “For the third time, Madame,” he said, “I advise you not to consult me, to go elsewhere.” “Are you not willing to help me?” she asked, softly.