One night, well into the summer, he came upon her, unexpectedly,

standing in front of a cheap restaurant, looking at the edibles

displayed in the window. She was not veiled, her face was pale and

haggard, and there was no mistaking the expression in her eyes as she

finally turned away.

"My friend," said Mr. Britton, laying his hand gently on her shoulder,

"are you hungry?"

She shrank from him with a start till a glance in his face reassured

her, and she answered, with an expressive gesture,-"Yes, Señor; I have had nothing to eat to-day, and but little

yesterday."

Advertisement..

"This is no fit place; come with me," Mr. Britton replied, leading the

way two or three blocks down the street, to a first-class restaurant. He

conducted her through the ladies' entrance into a private box, where he

ordered a substantial dinner for two.

"Señor," she protested, as the waiter left the box, "I have no money, no

way to repay you for this, you understand?"

"I understand," he answered, quickly; "I want no return for this. Miss

Underwood wished me to find you, and help you, if I could."

"Yes, I know; you are the Señorita's friend."

"And your friend also, if I can help you."

"You saved his life that night, Señor; I do not forget," the woman said,

with peculiar emphasis.

"Yes, I undoubtedly saved the scoundrel from a summary vengeance;

possibly I might not have done it, had I known what the alternative

would be. Where is that man now?" he asked, with sudden directness.

"I do not know, Señor; he tells me nothing, but I have heard he went

south some time ago."

The entrance of the waiter with their orders put a temporary stop to

conversation. The woman ate silently, regarding Mr. Britton from time to

time with an expression of childlike wonder. When her hunger was

appeased, and she seemed inclined to talk, he said,-"Tell me something of yourself. When and where did you marry that man?"

"We were married in Mexico, seven years ago."

"Your home was in Mexico?"

"No, Señor, my father owned a big cattle ranch in Texas. Señor Walcott,

as you call him here, worked for him. He wanted to marry me, but my

father opposed the marriage. We lived close to the line, so we went

across one day and were married. My father was very angry, but I was his

only child, and by and by he forgave and took us back."