"I found this poor girl in an exhausted state in the street just now," said Sir Oswald. "She is quite friendless, and has no shelter for the night, though she seems above the mendicant class. Will you put her somewhere, and see that she is taken good care of, my dear Mrs. Willet? In the morning I may be able to think of some plan for placing her in a more respectable position." Mrs. Willet promised that the girl should be taken care of, and made thoroughly comfortable. "Poor young thing," said the landlady, "she looks dreadfully pale and ill, and I'm sure she'll be none the worse for a nice little bit of supper. Come with me, my dear." The girl obeyed; but on the threshold of the hall she turned and spoke to Sir Oswald. "I thank you," she said; "I thank you with all my heart and soul for your goodness. I have never met with such kindness before." "The world must have been very hard for you, my poor child," he replied, "if such small kindness touches you so deeply. Come to me to-morrow morning, and we will talk of your future life. Goodnight!" "Good night, sir, and God bless you!" The baronet went slowly and thoughtfully up the broad staircase, on his way to his rooms. Sir Oswald Eversleigh passed the night of his sojourn at the 'Star' in broken slumbers. The events of the preceding day haunted him perpetually in his sleep, acting themselves over and over again in his brain. Sometimes he was with his nephew, and the young man was pleading with him in an agony of selfish terror; sometimes he was standing in the market-place, with the ghost-like figure of the vagrant ballad-singer by his side. When he arose in the morning, Sir Oswald resolved to dismiss all thought of his nephew. His strange adventure of the previous night had exercised a very powerful influence upon his mind; and it was upon that adventure he meditated while he breakfasted. "I have seen a landscape, which had no special charm in broad daylight, transformed into a glimpse of paradise by the magic of the moon," he mused as he lingered over his breakfast. "Perhaps this girl is a very ordinary creature after all--a mere street wanderer, coarse and vulgar." But Sir Oswald stopped himself, remembering the refined tones of the voice which he had heard last night--the perfect self-possession of the girl's manner. "No," he exclaimed, "she is neither coarse nor vulgar; she is no common street ballad-singer. Whatever she is, or whoever she is, there is a mystery around and about her--a mystery which it shall be my business to fathom." When he had breakfasted, Sir Oswald Eversleigh sent for the ballad-singer. "Be good enough to tell the young person that if she feels herself sufficiently rested and refreshed, I should like much to have a few minutes' conversation with her," said the baronet to the head-waiter.