"I—I came to see if I couldn't help, Millie." stammered he humbly.
In dialogue with the girl he seemed always to become a different creature. To-night there was some apparent difficulty in articulating, as his eyes rested on the untamed fire of the glance, and the droop of the small, exhausted frame.
"Let him come in and rest a minute, Miss Lutwyche," said Mr. Mayne gently. "He came all the way to the Mission to let me know."
"How'd he hear, I should like to know?" she demanded.
"Amurrica told me," stammered Bert, staring at the ground.
She gave a short laugh.
"Trust him to know other folks' business," she sneered. "He's the old woman's candidate, he is."
"Candidate? What for, Millie?" asked Mayne anxiously.
She had turned away, and Bert had fastened the door. She sank on a chair, leaning an arm on the table, the slenderness of her wrist, as it lay there, making a dumb appeal to all the manliness in Bert.
"For taking me off her hands," she said, with perfect calmness. "I'm on offer, didn't you know? Either o' you two in the running? Amurrica's given her ten quid on account; you'd better bet on his chances, unless you can go higher."