fortune's a jade. when we don't require her,

she ever beside us is staying.

fortune's a jade. for when we desire her,

she never responds to our praying.

mrs. belswin was not a rich woman. when she left her husband she took no money, naturally supposing that silas p. oates, who played the part of co-respondent in the divorce case, would take care of her. their romance, however, came to an end, for the lady's temper being uncertain, and the gentleman's income being equally so, things went anything but smoothly, so they parted. where her quondam lover went mrs. belswin neither knew nor cared, but for her part she earned enough to keep her comfortable by becoming an opera singer. she was a handsome woman, with a fine voice and great dramatic powers, so as time went on she took a first class position on the boards, and therefore earned a great deal of money. unfortunately, being open-handed and careless in money matters, she spent her income as she earned it, and when she arrived in england in search of her daughter, found herself very badly off. of course, owing to the peculiar position she held at thornstream, she had received no salary, as sir rupert was the only one who could pay her, and when he saw her, naturally the money question gave way to much more important matters.

after pethram's death, mrs. belswin had taken possession of kaituna with the intention of marrying her to maxwell, but now found herself in london with a daughter to provide for and very little money in the bank.

ferrari, certainly, would have been delighted to have shared his salary with her, but mrs. belswin had always kept the italian at his distance, and was determined not to give him any hold over her by being in his debt. since leaving oates, she had lived a decent life, earning her own money and asking favours from no one, so that although she had led a somewhat bohemian existence, yet, for the sake of her child, she had kept herself pure. reckless, vehement, careless as she was of all outward appearances, no one could cast a stone at her in a moral sense, and ferrari, knowing this well, respected her for it. he had often pressed her to take money from him, to be repaid by her marrying him, but mrs. belswin, not being prepared to discharge her debts in this way, had always refused. even now, when her daughter looked to her for support, and but a few pounds stood between her and absolute want, she never thought of asking ferrari for money, and had he, suspecting her needs, offered it, she would certainly have declined to take advantage of his generosity.

therefore to appeal to ferrari was out of the question. but what about maxwell?

no, mrs. belswin had her daughter's happiness too much at heart to jeopardise the girl's future by an appeal to the purse of her future husband. besides, maxwell was not rich, for she had heard him lament to toby clendon over his lack of money, which made him an unacceptable son-in-law to sir rupert.

clearly, therefore, she could not ask archie.

of course there was dombrain. no doubt, if she asked him he would give her money; but suppose he refused to assist her? ah, well, then she could force him.

at this point of her meditations mrs. belswin stopped.

could she force him? it was questionable. she did not like the way he looked at her over the dead body of her husband. certainly she knew his secret and could damage his position in london, which he prized so highly, but then, a worm will turn, and if appearances were against her as they certainly were, about the death of sir rupert, he could make things very disagreeable for her. formerly she would not have minded, but would have dared him in her old reckless fashion, trusting to her indomitable will to carry her through safely, but now she had kaituna to think of as well as herself, so she determined to leave mr. dombrain alone.

ferrari, maxwell, dombrain. she could ask none of the three to assist her, and yet something must be done. the terrible blow of her father's death had left kaituna prostrate with grief, and she looked to mrs. belswin for every thing. yes, the daughter, ignorant of the mother's personality, depended upon the mother as she would have done had she known the truth; and mrs. belswin, although concealing her real relationship; acted towards her newly-recovered daughter with the utmost tenderness.

still, what about money?

there was the stage. she could resume her profession, but that would entail time to obtain an engagement and constant absence from kaituna, who was not fitted in her present upset state of mind to be left alone. so after going over all kinds of possibilities in her mind, mrs. belswin found herself at her wits' end which way to turn for assistance.

coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and it was a curious thing that mrs. belswin should find in a society journal the name of silas p. oates mentioned as staying at the langham hotel.

silas p. oates, millionaire. most extraordinary! he had arrived just in time, for she could apply to him for money. he was her old lover; he was the man who had ruined her life; he had deserted her shamefully; but now he was rich, and had a right to help her. yes, she would call on him at once and ask him for assistance. for the sake of the dead-and-gone days he would not refuse. so with a smile of satisfaction mrs. belswin looked at the paper again.

"mr. silas p. oates is accompanied by his wife and daughter."

oh! he was married then--married and respectable--while she was still tossing on the stormy waters of the bohemian ocean. ah, these men, these men! they always have the best of it. they love, and ruin, and forsake a woman, and then settle down into respectable members of society; while the woman, who has lost all for their sake, is condemned for the rest of her life to be the sport of one sex and the scorn of the other.

still, now that he was married she would certainly be able to obtain what she wished, for he would not dare to refuse lest she should speak to his wife and destroy his happiness.

it never struck mrs. belswin that to act in this way would be dishonourable. she had been a free-lance for so long, and had been so accustomed in fighting her way through the world to use all kinds of weapons, that the means she intended to employ to extort money from oates seemed quite legitimate. many a woman would have died rather than have applied for help to the man who had basely deserted her; but mrs. belswin, her moral sense blunted by constantly battling with the stormy world, not only intended to get money from her old lover, but intended to apply that money to secure the happiness of her innocent daughter. here is a text for the preacher on human nature. does the end in this instance justify the means? strange things are done in this world of ours, but surely nothing more fantastical or shameful entered a woman's mind than to use her former disgrace as a means to secure her daughter's ease and peace of mind. and yet mrs. belswin could not see it--did not see it--and made up her mind to call on silas p. oates the next day, and not leave him until she had his cheque for a considerable amount in her purse.

to-day, however, archie was coming in order to tell them about toby clendon's proposed mission to australia, and kaituna was seated at the window watching for his coming, while mrs. belswin pondered over the problem of silas p. oates.

it was a dull little sitting-room, in a dull little house, in a dull little neighbourhood, but then the aforesaid neighbourhood was eminently respectable, and that satisfied mrs. belswin. in her dread lest her daughter should be tainted by bohemianism, mrs. belswin had gone to the opposite extreme, and, with the assistance of archie, taken lodgings in a severely respectable quarter, where church bells rang every other hour of the day, and nothing less genteel than a four-wheeler was ever seen in the dingy street.

their abode was situated in grail street, which was so deserted that it put the reflective in mind of london during the plague, especially as a hearse was no uncommon sight owing to the undertakers (wilps & co., high class pauper furnishers) being at the corner. all the houses were sad-looking, in keeping with the corner establishment, and kaituna's face was sad also as she looked out on to the lonely road on which fell the fine rain.

dressed in black, with her hands lying listlessly in her lap, and her face thin and worn with trouble, kaituna looked a very different girl in the dingy london lodging from what she had been at thornstream. mrs. belswin thought so as she glanced at her after answering the money question, and went across to her with a look of anxiety on her face.

"kaituna, my dearest, do not look so sad," she said, tenderly bending over the girl. "you make me feel so terribly anxious."

kaituna pushed her thick hair wearily off her forehead, and sighed deeply.

"i cannot help looking sad," she replied, listlessly; "i feel sad. a few months ago and i was so happy; now everything is taken away from me."

"not everything, dear. you have still me."

"you!" echoed kaituna, with a wan smile, taking the elder woman's hand. "ah, mrs. belswin, what should i have done without you, my good angel!"

"don't call me a good angel, dear," said mrs. belswin, hurriedly. "i am not good. god help me! had i been good things would have been different."

"i don't know what you refer to," replied kaituna, simply, stroking the hand she held. "all i know is that you have been good to me. without you i should have died. you are my only friend."

"you forget archie," said mrs. belswin, with an attempt at lightness.

"no; i don't forget him, good, kind fellow; but, mrs. belswin, i cannot hold him to his promise. i am poor now. it will be unfair for me to drag him down. i must go away. i cannot stay to be a burden on you--a burden on him. you must let me go."

"where?" asked mrs. belswin, quietly.

"i don't know. i will get the position of governess somewhere. mrs. valpy will recommend me. she knows what i can do."

"then you wish to leave me?" said mrs. belswin, reproachfully.

"no, i do not; but how can i ask you to keep me like this? you--a stranger!"

"a stranger!" said mrs. belswin, with a strange smile. "my dear, you must not look upon me as a stranger. i told you my story once--about my little child. now you stand to me in that child's place. i love you like a daughter! if you left me i should go mad. leave me! no, kaituna, you must not--you shall not leave me. promise that you will always stay beside me!"

the vehemence of the woman frightened kaituna, unnerved as she was by what she had gone through, and she shrank back in alarm.

"dear mrs. belswin----"

"oh!" cried the woman, walking up and down the room with tears streaming down her face, "for you to go away--to leave me, after all that i have suffered. you do not know what you say. you call me a stranger. i am a stranger. yes! i am mrs. belswin, who was your hired servant. but i love you, kaituna, like a daughter. you will not leave me--oh, my child, you will not leave me?"

she flung herself on her knees beside the girl, and looked up into her eyes with a fierce intensity of gaze that moved the girl strangely.

"no, i will not leave you, since you wish me not to," she said gently; "but indeed, mrs. belswin, i don't deserve such love."

mrs. belswin covered the hand she held with kisses, and sobbed hysterically; then the strange creature suddenly dried her eyes, and rose to her feet with a smile on her lips. it was the savage nature all over. one moment all fury, the next calm and smiling. she never controlled herself in any way, but let her natural moods and fancies have full play; so the result was bizarre, and rather terrifying to a more civilised nature. by this time, however, kaituna, perhaps from a secret chord of sympathy inherited from her savage progenitors, was beginning to understand mrs. belswin's whirlwinds of passion and sudden transitions from storm to calm; therefore, when the present outburst was over, the two women chatted together quite easily, as if nothing unusual had occurred.

"but of one thing i am certain," said kaituna, after a pause; "that it is not right for me to marry archie at present. i am poor, so is he, and i cannot consent to drag him down with me."

"my dear, you are too fine in your ideas," said mrs. belswin, with a superior smile. "archie maxwell loves you, and if you refused to marry him it would break his heart. besides, perhaps the pole star shares will be worth a lot of money."

"i'm afraid not. it's no use building up hopes on those. ah, my poor father. he thought to make me an heiress, but he has only made me a pauper. my poor, poor father. was he not a noble man, mrs. belswin?"

"yes, dear; yes! but you forget i only had a short interview with him."

"i remember, on the night he died--the night that he was murdered. oh, if i could only discover who killed him. but i can do nothing. i am only a woman, and have no money to employ any one, so he must lie in his grave unavenged. oh, who will help me?"

the answer came in an unexpected manner from the servant opening the door and announcing--

"mr. maxwell!"

"curious!" murmured mrs. belswin: "that is the second coincidence to-day."