Miss Egerton took Arthur Noel—for it was he—straight back into her little sitting-room, and sitting down on her worn little horse-hair sofa, and raising her eyes anxiously to the young man's face, she told him the story of the attic upstairs, of the furniture she had purchased, of the girls she had meant to serve. She showed him, with hands that trembled, the envelope with its queer inscription, and she unfolded for his benefit the empty sheet of blank paper. She told her story at once without any reservation, even relating with a little hasty blush how she felt obliged to pay for the furniture herself.

Perhaps Arthur Noel was the only person in the world to whom she would have made this confession; for she was one of those who made it a practice never to let her right hand know what her left did, but she had known Arthur from his boyhood, and he was one of those men who inspire trust and sympathy at a glance.

He listened to the story with interest, and even excitement—he was naturally enthusiastic, but even Miss Egerton had never seen him so perturbed and so moved as he was at present.

"I know about those girls," he said at last; "what are their names?—I am sure I know about them. Nay, let me ask you a question—Is not one called Jasmine? Has she not a piquant face, and very soft and yet bright eyes, and a great lot of curly brown hair? Yes, Miss Egerton, I am sure the girls you speak of are in a certain sense my girls; for if they are the ones I mean I took them under my protection long ago."

"Their name is Mainwaring. My dear Arthur, where and how have you met them? My dear boy, I fully believe, I have always believed, in your good intentions, in your wish to do your utmost for every one; but if you have really known Primrose, and Jasmine and Daisy, and have taken them, as you say, under your protection, I must say that of late you have lost sight of them—you have not been as kind as you generally are to people in difficulties, for I never met three more absolutely friendless girls than these."

"It was a good Providence sent me here this morning," said Noel. "You are quite right, Miss Egerton; I did lose sight of the children. I tried to follow them, but they managed to hide themselves most effectually. Think of my coming up to see you this morning, with a message from Mrs. Ellsworthy, and finding that our lost lambs are all but safe in your kind fold. How relieved my dear mother-friend will be!"

"Mrs. Ellsworthy is the kindest and best of women," said Miss Egerton; "I will receive your message presently, Arthur, but you puzzle me more and more when you tell me that she too knows my girls. I came across them quite accidentally. They called to ask me to give Jasmine lessons in English composition, and I took a fancy to them, and, in particular, felt drawn to the little one—for she reminded me of—, but no matter! The girls have been in and out of my house ever since. I saw that they were fearfully independent, but in many trivial ways I tried to help them. Well, Arthur, it is most surprising—it is altogether incomprehensible, but never during the months we have been seeing each other daily have they alluded to you or the Ellsworthys. They seemed perfectly unconstrained, and chatted many times of their cottage home in the country, but they never spoke of the Ellsworthys."

"They would not be likely to do," answered Noel. "I think, Miss Egerton, I must now tell you Mrs. Ellsworthy's and my side of the story."

Certainly Miss Egerton appeared to neglect her duties that morning............