The girl from nowhere

by Mrs. Baillie Reynolds

Vronsky listened with a deep and absorbed interest. His mind was itself of so simple and romantic a turn, that he believed instinctively and without difficulty everything that Felix said, and thus went right where a much cleverer man might have blundered. He comprehended the temperament which would be likely to err as Felix had erred—he sympathized with it and understood it, as not one Englishman in a thousand could have done.

With all his simplicity, he was a citizen of the world; and the jail stigma was nothing to him, the revolutionary tendencies less than nothing. Thus, in his experience, were most young, ardent, generous souls at such an age as that of Felix.

As the recital went on his heart went out more and more towards the boy who had never been understood. He loved his eager voice, his quick sensitive moods, the candor with which he avowed that his worst fault was the cowardly attempt to turn his back upon his difficulties.

But, the story told, there came the further question, What were the runaway boy and girl to do?

Having heard the circumstances, Vronsky was as convinced as Felix that to cast Rona to the wolves was a thing not to be considered for a moment.

But, the uncle was Rona's guardian. The only witness to his cruel intentions was a youth whose ticket-of-leave had just expired, and who was believed by the police to have made away with himself.

Thus it was vital that young Vanston should leave England—should get clear away before the police left off assuming his death: and Rona could be saved only by a secret flight.

Vronsky was wise enough to see that his own nationality was a complication of the difficulty.

"In your country," he remarked simply, "they think all Russians are Nihilists. If you are in close company with a Russian, this spy will think that you are certainly the man whom he seeks, with exactly the companion one would imagine that you would choose. There is one good thing: you speak French so uncommonly well. All the men in the hotel parlor this evening heard you. They will all find it hard to believe that you are English. If I am questioned, I shall say you are my nephew."

Felix eagerly promised to adhere to this statement, if necessary; and an outline of their imaginary history and proceedings for the past few months was then agreed upon.