He took from his pocket a gold bracelet, shining with bright stones, and held it up to the light. The girl uttered a cry of pleasure, but as she clasped the trinket she looked round in affright. Her glad exclamation was followed by a moan from Mrs. Lenoir, who staggered forward a few steps and sank, insensible to the ground.
"It's only a drunken woman," said the man. "Good night, my bird."
The girl eluded his embrace and ran to the fainting woman, and knelt beside her.
"She is not drunk," said the girl; "she looks worn out and tired. See how white she is. Poor creature! Perhaps she is starving."
Mrs. Lenoir, opening her eyes, saw as in a vision, the face of the beautiful girl bending over her, and a smile of ineffable sweetness played about her lips. But the words she strove to utter were breathed, unspoken, into the air, and she relapsed into insensibility.
"Leave her to me," said the man; "I will take care of her. You musn't get into trouble: it's past the time you were expected home."
He raised the woman in his arms as he spoke.
"You don't know her?" he said.
"No; I never saw her before," replied the girl "You must promise me now: you'll not leave her in the streets; you'll see her safely home."
"I'll do more; if she's in want, I'll assist her. Now, go; I don't want to be seen by your--what do you call him?--Mr. Dumbrick, or by your friend Sally. Good night. She is recovering already. Run away--and don't forget; to-morrow night, at the same place."