* * * * *

It is rarely, however, that such matters are allowed to slip out of one's
mind. When I went out in the afternoon for my usual stroll,--or rather
when I returned from that stroll,--I saw once more before me the woman
with her baby, whose story had filled me with dismay on the previous
evening. She was waiting at the gate as before, and, "Oh, gentleman, but
haven't you got some news to give me?" she said.

"My good woman,--I--have been greatly occupied. I have had--no time to do
anything."

"Ah!" she said, with a little cry of disappointment, "my man said not to
make too sure, and that the ways of the gentlefolks is hard to know."

"I cannot explain to you," I said, as gently as I could, "what it is that
has made me forget you. It was an event that can only do you good in the
end. Go home now, and see the man that took your things from you, and
tell him to come to me. I promise you it shall all be put right."

The woman looked at me in astonishment, then burst forth, as it seemed,
involuntarily, "What! without asking no questions?" After this there came
a storm of tears and blessings, from which I made haste to escape, but
not without carrying that curious commentary on my rashness away with
me,--"Without asking no questions?" It might be foolish, perhaps; but
after all, how slight a matter. To make the poor creature comfortable at
the cost of what,--a box or two of cigars, perhaps, or some other trifle.
And if it should be her own fault, or her husband's--what then? Had I
been punished for all my faults, where should I have been now? And if the