“No, my dear, no!” she answered.  “You must not tempt me!  I will take exactly the two months’ rent and no more; but I think you ought not to carry this money about with you—­you should put it in a bank.  We’ll talk of this afterwards—­but go and lock it up somewhere now—­there’s a little desk in your room you could use—­ but a bank would be safest.  After dinner this evening I’ll tell you what I think you ought to do—­you are so very young!”—­and she smiled—­“such a young little thing!  I shall have to look after you and play chaperone!”

Innocent looked up with a sweet confidence in her eyes.

“That will be kind of you!” she said, and leaving the one bank-note of a hundred pounds on the table, she folded up the other three in their original envelope and returned them to their secret place of safety.  “In a little while I will tell you a great deal about myself—­and I do hope I shall please you!  I will not give any trouble, and I’ll try to be useful in the house if you’ll let me.  I can cook and sew and do all sorts of things!”

“Can you, indeed!” and Miss Leigh laughed good-naturedly.  “And what about studying for literature?”

“Ah!—­that of course comes first!” she said.  “But I shall do all my writing in the mornings—­in the afternoons I can help you as much as you like.”

“My dear, your time must be your own,” said Miss Leigh, decisively.  “You have paid for your accommodation, and you must have perfect liberty to do as you like, as long as you keep to my regular hours for meals and bed-time.  I think we shall get on well together,—­and I hope we shall be good friends!”

As she spoke she bent forward and on a sudden impulse drew the girl to her and kissed her.  Poor lonely Innocent thrilled through all her being to the touch of instinctive tenderness, and her heart beat quickly as she saw the portrait on the harpsichord—­her father’s pictured face—­apparently looking at her with a smile.

“Oh, you are very good to me!” she murmured, with a little sob in her breath, as she returned the gentle old lady’s kiss.  “I feel as if I had known you for years!  Did you know him”—­and she pointed to the portrait—­“very long?”

Miss Leigh’s eyes grew bright and tender.

“Yes!” she answered.  “We were boy and girl together—­and once—­ once we were very fond of each other.  Perhaps I will tell you the story some day!  Now go up to your rooms and arrange everything as you like, and rest a little.  Would you like some tea?  Anything to eat?”

Poor Innocent, who had left Briar Farm at dawn without any thought of food, and had travelled to London almost unconscious of either hunger or fatigue, was beginning to feel the lack of nourishment, and she gratefully accepted the suggestion.

“I lunch at two o’clock,” continued Miss Leigh.  “But it’s only a little past twelve now, and if you have come a long way from the country you must be tired.  I’ll send Rachel up to you with some tea.”