The hurried note closed abruptly with the name of Clarence Stuart. Irene raised her eyes wonderingly to the lady's face.
"Why does he take such an interest in me?" she asked.
"He saved your life, my dear, and you seem in some sort to belong to him. Besides, he is naturally one of the noblest and best of men. His heart is full of pity for the weak and helpless," said the lady, enthusiastically.
There was a moment's silence; then Mrs. Leslie said, kindly:
"What do you say, my dear—will you be my little sister, and let me care for you?"
"Yes, until I can act for myself," Irene answered, softly, and pressing her girlish lips gratefully upon the lady's small white hand.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
Mrs. Leslie smoothed the girl's rippling golden curls tenderly.
"And the name?" she said. "Shall you not take Mr. Stuart's advice about that? It will be far—far better."