"Miss Blair wishes me to ask if you will be so kind as to go and speak to her; she has something which she wishes to say to you," she said, in the same parrot-like fashion.

Maria arose at once, and crossed the aisle and seated herself in the chair which the maid vacated. The maid took Maria's at a nod from her mistress.

The little woman looked at Maria for a moment with her keen, kind eyes and her peculiar smile deepened. Then she spoke. "What is the matter?" she asked.

Maria hesitated.

The dwarf looked across at her maid. "She will not understand anything you say," she remarked. "She is well trained. She can hear without hearing--that is her great accomplishment."

Still Maria said nothing.

"You got on at Amity," said the dwarf. "Is that where you live?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

Maria closed her mouth firmly.

The dwarf laughed. "Oh, very well," said she. "If you do not choose to tell it, I can. Your name is Ackley--Elizabeth Ackley. I am glad to meet you, Miss Ackley."

Maria paled a little, but she said nothing to disapprove this extraordinary statement.

"My name is Blair--Miss Rosa Blair," said the dwarf. "I am a rose, but I happened to bloom outside the pale." She laughed gayly, but Maria's eyes upon her were pitiful. "You are also outside the pale in some way," said Miss Blair. "I always know such people when I meet them. There is an affinity between them and myself. The moment I saw you I said to myself: she also is outside the pale, she also has escaped from the garden of life. Well, never mind, child; it is not so very bad outside when one becomes accustomed to it. I am. Perhaps you have not had time; but you will have. What is the matter?"

"I am running away," replied Maria then.

"Running away! From what?"

"It is better for me to be away," said Maria, evading the question.

"It would be better if I were dead."

"But you are not," said the dwarf, with a quick movement almost of alarm.

"No," said Maria; "and I see no reason why I shall not live to be an old woman."

"I don't either," said Miss Blair. "You look healthy. You say, better if you were dead--better for whom, yourself or others?"

"Others."

"Oh!" said Miss Blair. She remained quietly regardful of Maria for a little while, then she spoke again. "Where are you going when you reach New York?" she asked.

"I was going out to Edgham, but I shall miss the last train, and I shall have to go to a hotel," replied Maria, and she looked at the dwarf with an expression of almost childish terror.

"Don't you know that it may be difficult for a young girl alone? Have you any baggage?"

Maria looked at her little satchel, which she had left beside her former chair.

"Is that all?" asked Miss Blair.

"Yes."

"You must certainly not think of trying to go to a hotel at this time of night," said the dwarf. "You must go home with me. I am entirely safe. Even your mother would trust you with me, if you have one."

"I have not, nor father, either," replied Maria. "But I am not afraid to trust you for myself."

A pleased expression transfigured Miss Blair's face. "You do not distrust me and you do not shrink from me?" she said.

"No," replied Maria, looking at her with indescribable grat.i.tude.

"Then it is settled," said the dwarf. "You will come home with me. I expect my carriage when we arrive at the station. You will be entirely safe. You need not look as frightened as you did a few moments ago again. Come home with me to-night; then we will see what can be done."

Miss Blair turned her face towards the window. Her big chair almost swallowed her tiny figure, the sardonic expression had entirely left her face, which appeared at once n.o.ble and loving. Maria gazed at her as she sat so, with an odd, inverted admiration. It seemed extraordinary to her she should actually admire any one like this deformed little creature, but admire her she did. It was as if she suddenly had become possessed of a sixth sense for an enormity of beauty beyond the usual standards.

Miss Blair glanced at her and saw the look in her eyes, and a look of triumph came into her own. She bent forward towards Maria.

"You are sheltering me as well as I am sheltering you," she said, in a low voice.

Maria did not know what to say. Miss Blair leaned back again and closed her eyes, and a look of perfect peace and content was on her face.

It was not long before the train rolled into the New York tunnel.

Miss Blair's maid rose and took down her mistress's travelling cloak of black silk, which she brushed with a little, ivory brush taken from her travelling-bag.

"This young lady is going home with us, Adelaide," said Miss Blair.

"Yes, ma'am," replied the maid, without the slightest surprise.

She took Maria's coat from the hook where it swung, and brushed it also, and a.s.sisted her to put it on before the porter entered the car.

Maria felt again in a daze, but a great sense of security was over her. She had not the slightest doubt of this strange little creature who was befriending her. She felt like one who finds a ledge of safety on a precipice where he had feared a sheer descent. She was content to rest awhile on the safe footing, even if it were only transient.

When they alighted from the train at the station a man in livery met them and a.s.sisted Miss Blair down the steps with obsequiousness.

"How do you do, James?" said Miss Blair, then went on to ask the man what horses were in the carriage.

"The bays, Miss Blair," replied the man, respectfully.

"I am glad of that," said his mistress, as she went along the platform. "I was afraid Alexander might make a mistake and put in those new grays. I don't like to drive with them at night very well."

Then she said to Maria: "I am very nervous about horses, Miss Ackley.

You may wonder at it. You may think I have reached the worst and ought to fear nothing, but there are worsts beyond worsts."

"Yes," Maria replied, vaguely. She kept close to Miss Blair. She realized what an agony of fear she should have felt in that murky station with the lights burning dimly through the smoke and the strange sights and outcries all around her.

Miss Blair's carriage was waiting, and Maria saw, half-comprehendingly, that it was very luxurious indeed. She entered with Miss Blair and her maid, then after a little wait for baggage they drove away.

When the carriage stopped, the footman a.s.sisted Maria out after Miss Blair, and she followed her conductress's tiny figure toiling rather painfully on the arm of her maid up the steps. She entered the house, and stood for a second fairly bewildered.

Maria had seen many interiors of moderate luxury, but never anything like this. For a second her attention was distracted from everything except the wonderful bizarre splendor in which she found herself. It was not Western magnificence, but Oriental; hangings of the richest Eastern stuffs, rugs, and dark gleams of bronzes and dull lights of bra.s.s, and the sheen of silken embroideries.