“How did your father know we were still living in the same house?” asked my husband. “Suppose you had found strangers here, Maimie,—what would you have done?” There was another startled flash of the black eyes. “I don’t know. I never thought of such a thing. Father seemed so sure.” Silence followed, and Jack said,—“Mother!” entreatingly. I felt hard, and by no means inclined to respond. “It is an extraordinary tale altogether,” I said. Maimie looked even paler than on first coming in. Her eyes travelled wistfully all round, and then she again pushed the wavy hair from her brow, with a faint sigh. “I am so tired,” she said. “I wish I might sit down.” Jack was bringing a chair instantly, and I saw him place her in it, with a look of kind and gentle encouragement. He had taken one of her little hands into his own as he did this, and the hand was kept by him. A smothered sob broke from Maimie, and Jack bent to one side, and exchanged a whisper with Owen. “Doesn’t Maimie want something to eat, mother?” asked Cherry. I had never felt so utterly perplexed in my life, so bewildered as to my duty, so reluctant to accept an offered burden. Were we really called upon to support this stranger, thus thrust upon us? We had not enough for our own children. Yet what could be done? Cast a delicate girl, homeless and destitute, into the streets? Impossible. My heart would have been the first to cry out against that step: nevertheless it rose strongly against the only other step which seemed open. “You had better go and cut some bread and butter downstairs,” I said coldly to Cherry. “And, boys, you may all leave us for a few minutes. Your father and I must speak with Maimie.” Cherry and Owen obeyed at once. Cress moved slowly after them, with side glances of interest at the little flaxen head, which was drooping so gracefully, with one small hand over the eyes. The picture was very pretty, and evidently quite natural. The other hand was still in Jack’s clasp, and he stood still. “Mother, shall I pay the cabman, and have Maimie’s trunk brought in?” he asked. “Owen says there is only one trunk. The man will be tired of waiting.” I had it on my lips to say,—“No: let him wait a little longer.” But my husband spoke first, “Yes: do so, Jack.” “There is nothing else to be done, I suppose,—for to-night,” I said unwillingly. “And Maimie will sleep with Cherry?” asked Jack eagerly. “Nothing is settled yet,” I answered, determined this time to be beforehand with Robert. “Don’t be afraid, Maimie,” Jack said in a cheery tone, “It will all come right soon. I’m going now to see after your luggage.” “Oh,—the cab!” she said, and drawing away her hand, she hurriedly pulled out a small purse. “Please pay him for me.”