"I shall never find her now," she thought. "I have lost my money, and it will be a long time before I can earn enough to resign my situation here, and try to find her. Mrs. Markham was so sweet and kind. I wonder if she would help me. But, no, she would scorn me like all the rest, if she knew the story of my poor, young mother's disgrace." "Good-morning, little Mary. Where is my daughter this morning?" said a clear, musical voice. Golden looked up with a start, and saw Mr. Desmond, standing, tall, debonair and handsome, in the center of the lofty apartment. He had entered and closed the door so softly that she had not heard a sound. "Miss Ruby has gone out driving with her mother," she answered. "Ah," said Mr. Desmond. "I suppose she will not be gone long, so I will wait here until she returns." He drew forward a chair quite close to hers. Golden regarded him in surprise. "Miss Ruby was very anxious that you should go with her, but her mother said you had a business engagement this morning and could not find time to gratify her," she remarked to him, rather pointedly. He flushed, then laughed carelessly. "Oh, yes, so I did have," he replied, "I only looked in a minute to bid Ruby good-morning." "Yes, sir," the nurse replied, constrainedly, and looked out of the window. The way Mr. Desmond regarded her out of his large, bold eyes made her feel slightly nervous. She heartily wished that he would go away and leave her alone. But Mr. Desmond seemed in no haste to fulfill his business engagement. He sat silently a moment, regarding the delicate profile of the half averted face, then said, carelessly: "Where do you come from, Mary--New York?" "I am from the south, Mr. Desmond," said the girl, biting her lips to keep back her resentment at his familiar address. "Indeed? From what part of the south?" he inquired. "Excuse me, sir, I do not care to reveal my private affairs to a total stranger," replied Golden, with such sudden spirit and haughtiness that the fine gentleman stared. "Whew!" he exclaimed, "I did not mean any offense, Miss Smith, I only wished to know the precise spot where such peerless beauties as yourself are reared. I would certainly immigrate instanter to that most precious locality." Golden rose, crimson with anger, and crossed to the door. "Where are you going?" he inquired, following her and taking hold of her hand. "I am going down stairs, Mr. Desmond," she replied coldly, and trying to wrench her hand away. "Are you offended at my plain speaking?" he inquired, trying to look into her flashing eyes. "Surely you are aware that you are beautiful?" "If I am, it does not become you to tell me so, sir," she replied, resentfully. "Such compliments belong to your wife." "My wife is a beautiful woman, but not half so beautiful as you are, little Mary," he replied, still keeping a tight hold on her hand.