round him with a doubtful air. Dolly was shy in this strange company,
and ate her breakfast with a sedate gravity which filled both her
companions with astonishment and admiration. When the meal was finished,
old Oliver took his daughter's letter from his waistcoat pocket and read
it aloud to Tony, who listened with undivided interest.

"Then she's your own little 'un," he said, with a sigh of disappointment.
"You'll never give her up to me, if you get tired of her,--nor to the
p'lice neither," he added, with a brightening face.

"No, no, no!" answered Oliver, emphatically. "Besides, her mother's
coming on Friday. I wouldn't give her up for all the world, bless her!"

"And he's 'listed!" said Tony, in a tone of envy. "They wouldn't take me
yet a while, if I offered to go. But who's that she speaks of?--'for
Christ's sake, if I am worthy to use his name.' Who is he?"

"Don't you know?" asked Oliver.

"No, never heard tell of him before," he answered. "Is he any friend o'
yours?" [A]

[Footnote A: It may be necessary to assure some readers that this
ignorance is not exaggerated. The City Mission Reports, and similar
records, show that such cases are too frequent.]

"Ay!" said Oliver; "he's my only friend, my best friend. And he's my
master, besides."

"And she thinks he'd be angry if you turned the little girl away?"