And she heard herself saying afterwards to the amazement ofher friends： “I simply took her home with me，” as she steppedforward and said to that dim person beside her： “Come hometo tea with me.”
The girl drew back startled. She even stopped shivering fora moment. Rosemary put out a hand and touched her arm. “Imean it，” she said， smiling. And she felt how simple and kindher smile was. “Why won’t you？ Do. Come home with menow in my car and have tea.”
“You—you don’t mean it， madam，” said the girl， and therewas pain in her voice.
“But I do，” cried Rosemary. “I want you to. To please me.
Come along.”
The girl put her fingers to her lips and her eyes devouredRosemary. “You’re—you’re not taking me to the police station？”
she stammered.
“The police station！” Rosemary laughed out. “Why should Ibe so cruel？ No， I only want to make you warm and to hear—anything you care to tell me.”
Hungry people are easily led. The footman held the door ofthe car open， and a moment later they were skimming throughthe dusk.
“There！” said Rosemary. She had a feeling of triumph asshe slipped her hand through the velvet strap. She could havesaid， “Now I’ve got you，” as she gazed at the little captive shehad netted. But of course she meant it kindly. Oh， more thankindly. She was going to prove to this girl that—wonderfulthings did happen in life， that—fairy godmothers were real，that—rich people had hearts， and that women were sisters. Sheturned impulsively， saying： “Don’t be frightened. After all，why shouldn’t you come back with me？ We’re both women. IfI’m the more fortunate， you ought to expect...”
But happily at that moment， for she didn’t know how thesentence was going to end， the car stopped. The bell was rung， thedoor opened， and with a charming， protecting， almost embracingmovement， Rosemary drew the other into the hall. Warmth，softness， light， a sweet scent， all those things so familiar to hershe never even thought about them， she watched that otherreceive. It was fascinating. She was like the rich little girl in hernursery with all the cupboards to open， all the boxes to unpack.
“Come， come upstairs，” said Rosemary， longing to beginto be generous. “Come up to my room.” And， besides， shewanted to spare this poor little thing from being stared at bythe servants； she decided as they mounted the stairs she wouldnot even ring to Jeanne， but take off her things by herself. Thegreat things were to be natural！
And “There！” cried Rosemary again， as they reached herbeautiful big bedroom with the curtains drawn， the fire leapingon her wonderful lacquer furniture， her gold cushions and theprimrose and blue rugs.
The girl stood just inside the door； she seemed dazed. ButRosemary didn’t mind that.
“Come and sit down，” she cried， dragging her big chair up tothe fire， “In this comfy chair. Come and get warm. You look sodreadfully cold.”
“I daren’t， madam，” said the girl， and she edged backwards.
“Oh， please，”—Rosemary ran forward—“you mustn’t befrightened， you mustn’t， really. Sit down， when I’ve taken offmy things we shall go into the next room and have tea and becozy. Why are you afraid？” And gently she half pushed thethin figure into its deep cradle.
But there was no answer. The girl stayed just as she had beenput， with her hands by her sides and her mouth slightly open.
To be quite sincere， she looked rather stupid. But Rosemarywouldn’t acknowledge it. She leant over her， saying：
“Won’t you take off your hat？ Your pretty hair is all wet. Andone is so much more comfortable without a hat， isn’t one？”
There was a whisper that sounded like “Very good， madam，”
and the crushed hat was taken off.
“And let me help you off with your coat， too，” said Rosemary.
The girl stood up. But she held on to the chair with onehand and let Rosemary pull. It was quite an effort. The otherscarcely helped her at all. She seemed to stagger like a child，and the thought came and went through Rosemary’s mind， thatif people wanted helping they must respond a little， just a little，otherwise it became very difficult indeed. And what was she todo with the coat now？ She left it on the floor， and the hat too.
She was just going to take a cigarette off the mantelpiece whenthe girl said quickly， but so lightly and strangely： “I’m verysorry， madam， but I’m going to faint. I shall go off， madam， ifI don’t have something.”
“Good heavens， how thoughtless I am！” Rosemary rushed tothe bell.
“Tea！ Tea at once！ And some brandy immediately！”
The maid was gone again， but the girl almost cried out： “No，I don’t want no brandy. I never drink brandy. It’s a cup of tea Iwant， madam.” And she burst into tears.
It was a terrible and fascinating moment. Rosemary kneltbeside her chair.
“Don’t cry， poor little thing，” she said. “Don’t cry.” And shegave the other her lace handkerchief. She really was touchedbeyond words. She put her arm round those thin， bird-likeshoulders.