"Do you live here, in this house, alone?" I asked. "No," she replied. "I have Petrouchka and his wife Akoulina, who were our servants in St Petersburg for many years, in addition to the English maid who admitted you." "Then you are not quite alone," I said. "Besides, you ought not to be unhappy, for you have enough money to live comfortably, and you should try and forget your sad bereavement." "Alas! I cannot forget," she said, still speaking in French. "It is impossible. I am exiled here in your country, while all my relatives and friends are so far away. I cannot go into your society, for I have no chaperon; besides, English puzzles me so. I shall never learn it, never. Oh, it is so difficult." "Yes," I admitted, laughing. "But not so puzzling as your own Russian, with all its bewildering letters." She smiled, but there was a touch of wistful sadness in her handsome face when, after a slight pause, she looked at me earnestly, saying,-- "It was because I am so lonely and unhappy that I asked you to come here to-night." "To be your companion--eh?" I observed, laughing. "Well, what you have told me regarding Ella Laing is scarcely calculated to set a man's mind at rest." "Ah, no. I have only told you in order that you should be forewarned. Let that pass; yet remember the words I have uttered, proof of which you shall have some day. The fact is, I want you to do me a favour. I am tired of this exile from my friends; I have no one as companion except old Akoulina, and I want to return to Russia for a month or so to visit my relatives, and to transact some legal business connected with my poor father's estate." "But is it safe for you to return?" I hazarded. "Not unless you will procure me a passport. This you can do if you will," she answered earnestly. "You would be arrested on the frontier," I said. "Is it wise to run such risk?" "Of course the passport must not be in my own name," she went on. "You alone can obtain one from your friend at the Embassy." I shook my head dubiously, feeling assured that I could never induce Verblioudovitch to issue a false passport to a woman he had denounced as a dangerous criminal. "Ah, you will try, will you not?" she implored, rising and gripping my arm. "It is necessary that I should be in St Petersburg within fourteen days from now, in order to give instructions regarding my late father's property. His brother, my uncle, is endeavouring to cheat me of it, and I must return, or I shall lose everything. I shall be ruined utterly." She spoke so rapidly, and upon her pale face was a look so wistful, that I felt assured she was in earnest. Hers was not the face of a malefactor, but rather that of a modest girl whose spirit had been broken by her bereavement.