"It's my turn to bring you some, I think," began the man she could
trust; but she stopped him by putting up her plump little white hand.

"If you mean with money, no," she said, with soft decision that was
pretty and sad to hear. "If you mean with advice, yes. If you could only
get me something to do! You see, they will be turning us out of our
hotel to-morrow. They've let us keep our rooms on, up to now, but for
two days they've not given us anything to eat. Of course, it can't go on
like this. If it hadn't been for you, I think when I went back to tell
my mother that the last louis of the viatique was gone, we would have
killed ourselves."

"Great Heaven, you must promise me not to do that," the young man
implored.

"I will promise, now, for you have saved me by--caring a little. You do
care, really, don't you?"

"I wouldn't have blood in my veins, if I didn't. But--about something
for you to do--I must think."

"Are you staying here for some time?" asked the girl.

"I haven't made up my mind."

"I asked because I--I suppose you don't need a secretary, do you? I can
write such a good English hand; and I know French and Italian as well as
I do German, and your own language. If I could be of use, I would work
so hard for you."