He wondered how the parents of such a child could entrust her to the guardianship of strangers; and whether it would be possible for her to carry her peculiar look of holy purity safely into the cloudy Beyond—­of womanhood?

While he pondered the clock struck, and Regina awoke.

At sight of that tall stately figure, looming like a black statue between her and the glow of the grate, she sprang first into a sitting posture, then to her feet.

He made no effort to assist her, only watched every movement, and when she stood beside him, he held out his hand.

“Regina, I am glad to see you in my house; and am sorry I could not have been at home to receive you.”

Painfully embarrassed by the thought of the position in which he had found her, she covered her face with her hand; and at the sound of his grave deep voice the blood swiftly mounted from her throat to the tip of her small shell-shaped ears.

He waited for her to speak, but she could not sufficiently conquer her agitation, and with a firm hand he drew down the shielding fingers, holding, them in his.

“There is nothing very dreadful in your being caught fast asleep, like a white kitten on a velvet rug.  If you are never guilty of anything worse, you and your guardian will not quarrel.”

Her face had drooped beyond the range of his vision, and when he put one hand under her chin and raised it, he saw that the missing light in the alabaster vase had been supplied, and her smooth cheeks were flushed to brilliant carmine.

How marvellously lovely she was in that rush of colour that dyed her dainty lips, and made the large soft eyes seem radiant as stars, when they bravely struggled up to meet his, so piercing, so coolly critical.

“Will you answer me one question, if I ask it?”

“Certainly, Mr. Palma; at least I will try.

“Are you afraid of me?”

The sweet mouth quivered, but the clear lustrous eyes did not sink.

“Yes, sir; I have always been afraid of you.”

“Do you regard me as a monster of cruelty?”

“No, sir.”

“Will your conscience allow you to say, ’My guardian, I am glad to see you’?”

She was silent.

“That is right, little girl.  Be perfectly truthful, and some day we may be friends.  Sit down.”

He handed her a chair, and, rolling forward one of the deep cushioned seats, made himself comfortable in its soft luxurious latitude.  Throwing his massive head back against the purple velvet lining, he adjusted his steel-rimmed spectacles, joined his hands, and built a pyramid with his fingers; while he scrutinized her as coldly, as searchingly as Swammerdam or Leeuwenhoek might have inspected some new and as yet unclassified animalculum, or as Filippi or Pasteur studied the causes of “Pebrine.”

“What do you think of New York?”

“It seems a vast human sea, in which I could easily lose myself, and be neither missed nor found.”