ill. Their destitute state was pointed out to me, and I went to them;

but, as I said, their necessity is beyond my powers to relieve, and their case is more suited to a woman’s kindness than a man’s.”

“I will go to them,” said Violet. “Mamma,” and she went across and kissed her mother, “you will take me to see a poor woman, will you not?”

“Yes, dear, certainly. Where does she live?” and Mrs. Osborne roused herself eagerly.

“It is in a part of London,” Leicester said, smiling, “to which I would not willingly send you. You must be prepared for real misery and its many accompaniments; but I suppose such sights are good for us all. I will write the direction.”

It was to one of the small streets near Soho Square.

“I will go to-morrow,” Violet said, “and I wish to-morrow was come. Could we meet you there, Mr. Leicester, and we might consider what could be done?”

“I will come here, if you will allow me,” he replied. “The mother is too ill, and the daughter too young and pretty to be a fit charge for me. I am thankful to resign them into your hands. I believe you are making out a romance,” he added smiling, as he saw a peculiar look in Violet’s face, “but I assure you I am far too prosaic a person for such kind of romances. Do not waste your imagination upon me.”

“Is the girl so very pretty?” Violet asked with curiosity.

“Not by any means dangerously beautiful,” he said, smiling again, “but certainly pretty, and so fair and young and helpless looking, that I shall be glad to think of her as having a kind adviser and friend. Any assistance I and my sisters can give, you may depend on our giving, but if you will accept the charge I resign it gratefully to you.”

“And I take it gratefully,” Violet said with warmth; “and I hope I shall acquit myself to your satisfaction.”