terrible task it is. And, mind you, nobody cares for your future but me. You have no friends among the people with whom your life has been cast lately. Not one of them would stretch out a hand to save you." "That I will," Rent said. "Ah, I am afraid you do not realise what a terrible task it is. And, mind you, nobody cares for your future but me. You have no friends among the people with whom your life has been cast lately. Not one of them would stretch out a hand to save you." Kate Charlock shook her head sadly. There was no occasion for Rent to tell her that, for she knew it far better than he did. In worldly matters this man was a mere child by the side of her. She glanced at her hands—those long, slim hands which had not done a day's work for the last six years. And Kate Charlock knew her limits. She knew perfectly well that she was not clever, that her mental equipment was slender. She read no literature, beyond the last thing in neurotic fiction. Her education had been quite perfunctory. Save in the direction of the stage, there was no opening for her. And, with all her great talents, a stage career was precarious, if not problematical. Kate Charlock shook her head sadly. There was no occasion for Rent to tell her that, for she knew it far better than he did. In worldly matters this man was a mere child by the side of her. She glanced at her hands—those long, slim hands which had not done a day's work for the last six years. And Kate Charlock knew her limits. She knew perfectly well that she was not clever, that her mental equipment was slender. She read no literature, beyond the last thing in neurotic fiction. Her education had been quite perfunctory. Save in the direction of the stage, there was no opening for her. And, with all her great talents, a stage career was precarious, if not problematical. She had nothing except her beauty and the sweet, alluring sadness of her smile. On one point she was resolved: she was never going to share an humble cottage with John Charlock. As she stood there, meek and resigned, with the slow dawning of a smile upon her face, she was reckoning up her chances as avidly as any Cheap Jack at a country fair. She saw the risks. She had a luminous grasp of the situation. Her mental vision was clear and cold as crystal. She had nothing except her beauty and the sweet, alluring sadness of her smile. On one point she was resolved: she was never going to share an humble cottage with John Charlock. As she stood there, meek and resigned, with the slow
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