"You are too inquisitive，St. John," murmured Mary in a low voice; but he leaned over the table and required an answer by a second firm and piercing look.

"The name of the place where，and of the person with whom I lived，is my secret," I replied concisely.

"Which，if you like，you have，in my opinion，a right to keep，both from St. John and every other questioner," remarked Diana.

"Yet if I know nothing about you or your history，I cannot help you," he said. "And you need help，do you not?"

"I need it，and I seek it so far，sir，that some true philanthropist will put me in the way of getting work which I can do，and the remuneration for which will keep me，if but in the barest necessaries of life."

"I know not whether I am a true philanthropist; yet I am willing to aid you to the utmost of my power in a purpose so honest. First，then，tell me what you have been accustomed to do，and what you can do."

I had now swallowed my tea. I was mightily refreshed by the beverage; as much so as a giant with wine: it gave new tone to my unstrung nerves，and enabled me to address this penetrating young judge steadily.

"Mr. Rivers," I said，turning to him，and looking at him，as he looked at me，openly and without diffidence，"you and your sisters have done me a great service- the greatest man can do his fellow-being; you have rescued me，by your noble hospitality，from death. This benefit conferred gives you an unlimited claim on my gratitude，and a claim，to a certain extent，on my confidence. I will tell you as much of the history of the wanderer you have harboured，as I can tell without promising my own peace of mind- my own security，moral and physical，and that of others.

"I am an orphan，the daughter of a clergyman. My parents died before I could know them. I was brought up a dependant; educated in a charitable institution. I will even tell you the name of the establishment，where I passed six years as a pupil，and two as a Mr. Rivers?- the Rev. Robert Brocklehurst is the treasurer."