ventured to come to you for a little advice this evening.”

“Spoke kindly to you! Why on earth shouldn’t I speak kindly to you?” he asked, in surprise.

Then noticing her pale, weary face, he continued:

“What under the sun have you been doing to-day? You look tired to death.”

Star tried to smile, but she felt more like dropping her face upon her hands and sobbing aloud.

She controlled herself with an effort, however, and putting some of her papers upon the table beside him, said:

65“I have brought you some papers which papa gave me just before—just before he died”—a sob would come in spite of her then. “One is a copy of a letter which he wrote to Mrs. Richards,” she went on, “and there is also her reply. Will you kindly read them, and tell me just what you understand by them?”

65

“Certainly, if you wish,” he replied, looking a trifle surprised at her request.

He motioned her again to a seat, then opened the letters and read them both through.

“I understand,” he said, when he had finished them, “from your father’s letter that, believing he was soon to die, he wished to provide a home for you. He states that he has no friends or relatives in England with whom he would be willing to trust you; that he has next to nothing to leave you, and begs my wife, as the nearest of kin, to assume the care of you and your education until you are able to do something for yourself, trusting to Providence to reward her for her kindness to the orphan. He mentions that he feels assured she will do this, since she once entertained such tender feelings for his wife for the signal service which she once rendered her.”

“Do you know what that service was?” Star asked, in a low tone.

“No; I asked Ellen when I read the letter which she received, but she seemed to have forgotten to what he referred. Perhaps you know, though?” Mr. Richards concluded, inquiringly.

Star colored vividly.

“Yes, sir,” she returned, with compressed lips.

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