“Then you are alone and an orphan, just like myself. Well, we should be friends, then.” She drew a tiny watch from her belt. “It’s past twelve; won’t you come and take lunch with me? I should enjoy having you.”
“Thank you. I shall be delighted. Do you live near?”
“I’m staying at the Metropole. I suppose you live in a pension. Much better; but I’m only a transient—here to-day, gone to-morrow.”
“Yes, I live at a pension; but I often go out for my lunch.”
“Good, then we’ll go to the Park restaurant. It’s nice and quiet there, and we can have a good talk. You needn’t be afraid to come. I’m big enough to chaperon you.”
Helène laughed happily. It was so comforting to hear her friendly, soft, confident voice.
“You certainly look as if you could take care of yourself, Miss Fisher.” The two laughed as they walked towards the restaurant.
The good luncheon which Miss Fisher ordered proved an excellent solvent for Helène’s state of mind, and Miss Fisher herself knew well how to break down any barriers of restraint that might still remain. It was evident that she wanted to help this young and beautiful girl in distress, and when a woman of Margaret Fisher’s temperament makes up her mind, there is nothing that will stop her.
It was not long, therefore, before Helène had unbosomed herself of all her anxieties and told her new-found friend of the difficulties which she had encountered in her efforts to find some occupation. Miss Fisher looked at her admiringly with tender, motherly eyes.
“Poor dear!” she exclaimed, “I know all about it. I’ve been through it myself. My father was a German—his people lived near Hanover, which is one of the reasons why I am here. My business brought me to Europe and I took the opportunity to look them up. I am the head of a high-class dressmaking and millinery establishment in New York, Madame Lucile’s, and I came on a buying trip. I’m going back next week—as soon as the new models are ready for me.”