THE GAY BARTENDER

eighty nine

gathered around an object that was concealed from me their bodics.I sent Piero to see what it was,and went drinking my tea.

After an interval he camebounding back with his bla cyes gleaming.Nothing delights these gentry quite so mu as misfortune; I was therefore not surprised when he ported that the "turisti" were gathered around a young En lish lady who had fallen down dead upon the ground.

“How do you know that she is English?”I inquired.

Piero did not reply in words; he went through an extrao dinary series of grimaces to indicate a certainty so profour it requires no evidence. His eyes rolled, his hands fle about, his shoulders rose and fell. What else should the lad be but English.

English or not,I doubted that the lady was dead. That wa only Piero's Latin love of the dramatic. But so far as I coul see, no one in the crowd was doing anything except stare. rose to my feet,therefore, and after brushing off my bustle I approached the group. My parasol proved useful in passin through it; I had to apply the ferrule quite sharply to th backs of several gentlemen before they would move. Even tually I penetrated to the center of the circle. As I had sur mised,no one was behaving with sense or compassion Indeed,several of the ladies were pulling their escorts away, With comments about infection and criticism of the fallen lady's probable character.

She was so pitiful as she lay thereon the cold,damp rond that only a heartof seo ne could have been unmoved. There are many hearts of that composition,however.

sat don upon the grot cod ofted the girl's head onte or mantle.However,that was easily remedied.

"Your coat,sir,"I said to the nearest gentleman、He was a stout,

layers of

fesh should have been warm, without

the fur-lined red-faced person whose extra

enough to keep him handsome

greatcoat he wore.He carried

II

The doctor I summoned assured me that my diagnosis had been correct. The young lady was suffering from starvation and cold only. There was no sign of infection, and she was recovering quickly.

A plan had taken shape in my mind, and I considered it, striding up and down the drawing room of my suite, as is my habit when engaged in thought. It did not take me long to reach a decision. Frail as the girl appeared, she must have a stout constitution in order to have resisted, in her weakened state,the putrid air and water of Rome. Clearly she had no friends or relatives to whom she could look for relief, or she would not have sunk to such a state. Equally clearly, she could not be left in that state.

Having made up my mind, I went to tell the young lady what was to be done.

She was sitting up in bed, taking soup from the hand of my maid,Travers.Neither of them appeared to be enjoying the process. Travers is a living contradiction to the theories of the physiognomists, for her face and shape do not at all reflect her personality. She is a round, cheery-faced little person with the soul of a dried-up old spinster. She did not approve of my taking in a “stray,” as she would have said, and her sour look expressed her feelings. To be fair, that was the only way in which Travers could express her feelings. I do not permit verbal complaints.

“That will do,” I said. “Too much food might be ill ad-vised at present. Go away, Travers, and be sure you close the door tightly.”

When she had obeyed, I studied my patient and was pleased at what I saw. My flannel nightdress was consider-ably too large for the girl. She would need clothing-dainty, delicate things, to suit her fairness-garments of the sort I had never been able to wear. She would look charming ingold-headed stick, which he had been using to poke at the fallen girl as a lecturer in a waxworks indicates the exhibits. When I addressed him, he turned from his companion, to whom he had been speaking in an undertone, and stared at me.

“What-what?" he snorted.

“Your coat," I said impatiently. “Give it to me at once.”Then, as he continued to stare, his face getting redder and redder, I raised my voice. “Sir-your coat,at once!”

I put the coat over the girl. Having assured myself that she was only in a faint, I was at leisure to look at her more closely. I was not a whit distracted by the whalelike sputter-ings of the red-faced gentleman whose coat I had appro-priated.

I have said that I am a plain woman. For this reason I have a quite disinterested love of beauty in all its forms.I could therefore disinterestedly admire the girl who lay un-conscious before me.

She was English, surely; that flawless white skin and pale-golden hair could belong to no other nation. She was naturally fair of complexion; now, in her fainting state, her face was as pallid and pure as marble.The features might have been those of an antique Venus or young Diana.Her lashes were several shades darker than her hair, forming a pleasing contrast. She was dressed, quite inappropriately for the chilly weather, in a summer frock and thin blue cloak; both cloak and gown were sadly worn, but had once been expensive-they were of costly material and showed good workmanship. The gloves on her small hands had been neatly mended. The girl presented a picture of poverty and abandonment that excited my curiosity as much as it aroused my compassion; I wondered what had reduced a young woman of obvious refinement to this state. I surmised that she suffered chiefly from cold and hunger; the thin white face was pinched and sunken.

As I watched, her dark-gold lashes fluttered and lifted,