"If you could send home word," she whispered, "that he was ill, that anything had happened to him, that he was not likely to return--our fortunes would be made--yours and mine.""Stop!" he muttered. "You--phew! It's hot here!"He wiped the perspiration recklessly from his forehead with a red silk handkerchief."What made you come to me?" he asked. "I don't even know the name of your mistress.""And you must not ask it," she declared quietly. "It is better for you not to know. I came to you because you were a man, and I knew that I could trust you."Her flattery sank into his soul. No one else had ever called him a man. He felt himself capable of great things. To think that, but for the coming of this wonderful Mademoiselle Violet, he might even now have been furnishing a small shop on the outskirts of Islington, with collars and ties and gloves designed to attract the youth of that populous neighborhood!"When do I start?" he asked with a coolness which surprised himself.She drew a heavy packet from the recesses of the muff she carried."All the particulars are here," she said. "The name of the steamer, the name of the man, and money. You will be told where to get more in New York, if you need it."He took it from her mechanically. She rose to her feet."You will remember," she said, looking into his eyes."I ain't likely to forget anything you've said tonight," he answered honestly. "But look here! Let me take you home--just this once! Give me something to think about."She shook her head."I will give you something to hope for," she whispered. "You must not come a yard with me. When you come back it will, perhaps--be different."He remained behind the partition, gripping the packet tightly. Mademoiselle Violet took a hasty adieu of Mr. Sinclair, and descended to the street. She walked for a few yards, and then turned sharply to the left. A hansom, into which she stepped at once, was waiting there. She wrapped herself hastily in a long fur coat which lay upon the seat, and thrust her hand through the trap door."St. Martin's Schoolroom!" she told the cabman. Apparently Mademoiselle Violet combined a taste for philanthropy with her penchant for Islington dancing halls. She entered the little schoolroom and made her way to the platform, dispensing many smiles and nods amongst the audience of the concert, which was momentarily interrupted for her benefit. She was escorted on to the platform by a young and earnest-looking clergyman, and given a chair in the center of the little group who were gathered there. And after the conclusion of the song, the clergyman expressed his gratification to the audience that a lady with so many calls upon her time, such high social duties, should yet find time to show her deep interest in their welfare by this most kind visit.