introduced you. Thought for a time I should have to give it up. Then she asked my advice on one or two business matters, and I discovered—” He hesitated, flushing uncomfortably, and Claire finished the sentence.

“That we are coming to the end of our resources?”

Mr Judge nodded.

“And so, of course,” he continued simply, “that settled it. I couldn’t go away and leave her to face a struggle. I was jolly thankful to feel that I had met her in time.”

“I think you are a dear, good man. I think mother is very lucky. Thank you so much for being my step-papa!” cried Claire, her grey eyes softening with a charming friendliness as they dwelt on the man’s honest face, and he took her hand in his, and squeezed it with affectionate ardour.

“Thank you, my dear. Thank you! I shall be jolly proud of having such a pretty daughter. I’m not a rich man, but I am comfortably well-off, and I’ll do my best to give you a good time. Your mother feels sure she will enjoy the Indian life. Most girls think it great fun. And of course I have lots of friends.”

Claire stared at him, a new seriousness dawning in her eyes. She looked very pretty and very young, and not a little pathetic into the bargain. For the first time since the realisation of her mistake the personal application of the situation burst upon her, and a chill crept through her veins. If she herself had married Robert Judge, her mother would have made her home with them as a matter of course; but it was by no means a matter of course that she should make her home with her mother. She stared into the honest face of the man before her—the man who was not rich, the man who was in love for the first time in his life, and a smile twisted the corner of her lips.

“Mr Judge, if I ask you a question, will you promise to give me an absolutely honest answer?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Well, then, will you like having a third person living with you all the time?”

Up to the man’s forehead rushed the treacherous blood. He frowned, he scowled, he opened his lips to protest; but that flush had answered for him, and Claire refused to listen. “No, no—don’t! Of course you wouldn’t. Who would, in your place? Poor darlings—I quite understand. You are middle-aged, you know, though you feel about nineteen, and mother is prettier and more charming than half the girl brides. And 

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