“Oh, please let me stay!” she said.  “Now, at once!  I have only just arrived in London and this is the first place I have seen.  It seems so—­so fortunate that you should have had a friend named Armitage!  Perhaps—­perhaps I may be a friend too!”

A curious tremor seemed to pass over the old lady as though she shivered in a cold wind.  She laid one hand gently on the girl’s arm.

“You may, indeed!” she said.  “One never can tell what may happen in this strange world!  But we have to be practical—­and I am very poor and pressed for money.  I do not know you—­and of course I should expect references from some respectable person who can tell me who you are and all about you.”

Innocent grew pale.  She gave a little expressive gesture of utter hopelessness.

“I cannot give you any references,” she said—­“I am quite alone in the world—­my people are dead—­you see I am in mourning.  The last friend I had died a little while ago and left me four hundred pounds in bank-notes.  I have them here”—­and she touched her breast—­“and if you like I will give you one of them in advance payment for the rooms and board at once.”

The old lady heaved a quick sharp sigh.  One hundred pounds!  It would relieve her of a weight of pressing difficulty—­and yet—!  She paused, considering.

“No, my child!” she said, quietly.  “I would not on any account take so much money from you.  If you wish to stay, and if I must omit references and take you on trust—­which I am quite willing to do!”—­and she smiled, gravely—­“I will accept two months’ rent in advance if you think you can spare this—­can you?”

“Yes—­oh, yes!” the girl exclaimed, impulsively.  “If only I may stay—­now!”

“You may certainly stay now,” and Miss Leigh rang a bell to summon the neat maid-servant.  “Rachel, the rooms are let to this young lady, Miss Armitage.  Will you prepare the bedroom and help her unpack her things?” Then, turning round to Innocent, she said kindly,—­“You will of course take your meals with me at my table—­ I keep very regular hours, and if for any cause you have to be absent, I should wish to know beforehand.”

Innocent said nothing;—­her eyes were full of tears, but she took the old lady’s little hand and kissed it.  They went down together again to the drawing-room, Innocent just pausing to tell the maid Rachel that she would prefer to unpack and arrange the contents of her satchel—­all her luggage,—­herself; and in a very few minutes the whole business was settled.  Eager to prove her good faith to the gentle lady who had so readily trusted her, she drew from her bosom the envelope containing the bank-notes left to her by Hugo Jocelyn, and, unfolding all four, she spread them out on the table.

“You see,” she said, “this is my little fortune!  Please change one of them and take the two months’ rent and anything more you want—­ please do!”

A faint colour flushed Miss Leigh’s pale cheeks.