"Your house is going fast, madame. I fear nothing can be saved," said Claire. "The upper floor is already gone."
The stranger smiled slightly, but never so much as glanced out at her disappearing home.
"I hope my landlord is well insured," she said. "As for me, I have my chiefest valuables here," drawing from underneath the cloak, which she had only partially thrown off, a small casket, and a morocco case that evidently contained papers. "I keep these always near me; as for the rest, there is nothing lost that money cannot replace."
Claire looked a trifle surprised at her indifference to the destruction of her elegant furniture, but made no answer. And the stranger fell into thoughtful silence.
A rap sounded on the door, and a gentle voice outside said: "Claire, dear, are you there?"
The girl turned upon the stranger a look of embarrassed inquiry. "That is mamma," she said.
The lady smiled half sadly at her evident perturbation, and replied, with a touch of dignity in her tone, "Admit your mother, my dear. I was about to ask for her."
Claire drew a sigh of relief and opened the door.
"My child," began Mrs. Keith, as she hurriedly entered the room, "James tells me that you—"
Here she broke off as her eyes fell upon the stranger, and Claire hastened to say: "Mamma, this is the lady whose house is burning. I ran over there as soon as I saw the first flame and asked her to come here."