They crossed the pavement to the doorway. There she asked: "Do you know any honest, poor man, who will----" She broke off abruptly, recognising her audacity, and then added: "Don't forget, at eight to-morrow morning. Those not on time will get left--for at two minutes past eight the _Marchioness_ will be out in the middle of the Hudson. Until then,"--and she gave him her hand,--"at the landing----" "Not at the landing," he broke in. "I'm going to start from here. I'll call for you just to see that Larry Pendexter keeps himself to himself, or at least to Jane Gerard. Is it a go?" Leslie did not answer. Instead she flashed him a bewildering smile as she passed through the door which Jeffries held open for her. Half way down the hall, Leslie ran into Roy Pallister. His face was haggard and unduly white. She started back as she saw him. "Why, Roy!" she cried, unconsciously calling him by his first name; "what has happened?" The boy flushed as his name fell from her lips. "Miss Leslie," he began stumblingly, seemingly embarrassed by the searching gaze she rested on him, "nothing--that is, nothing that's imminent. Your----" "My father!" she queried. "Has anything----" "They," pointing to the floor above, "seem to treat it lightly. I'm a beast for frightening you; but I think your father feels--fears----" "Mr. Pallister, what are you keeping from me? What is the matter?" The gentle little fellow steadied himself for a moment against the wall, and then, as she made a movement to go, he drew her back. "Miss Leslie, I've been wanting to tell you something--I've been waiting for the chance. If ever in the future you need help--help of any kind, you'll let me know," he said with lips that trembled. "I want to be sure that you understand just what I mean. I've never done anything for you, Miss Leslie, and----" "Why, yes you have; indeed you have...." she assured him, and her look was one of genuine affection. The boy shook his head. "I want your promise that you'll come to me if----" Leslie did not wait to hear any more, but breaking from him, ran swiftly up the stairs. At the first landing she turned and looked back: he was standing very straight and very quiet by the newel post, glancing up at her with intense admiration. In a flash she was back to the foot of the stairs holding out her hand to him. "I promise, Roy," she said impulsively. "You're the best-hearted fellow going! Good-night!" At the door of her step-mother's apartment, Leslie paused. A babel of voices came from behind the closed doors--the voices of many men and one woman. Quickly in answer to her knock and question "May I come in?" the door was thrown back, and Flomerfelt, her father's confidential man, stood framed in the doorway, bowing elaborately. In a glance, despite the haze of cigar smoke, she saw that the company consisted of her father, her father's wife, and another man. With a glad cry, she rushed over to this other man and grasped his hand.