few kind words before Miss Wigger could assert herself for the
third time.

"I am afraid I have taken a liberty in answering you personally,
when I ought to have answered by letter. My only excuse is that I
have no time to arrange for an interview, in London, by
correspondence. I live in Scotland, and I am obliged to return by
the mail to-night."

He paused. She was looking at him. Did she understand him?

She understood him only too well. For the first time, poor soul,
in the miserable years of her school life, she saw eyes that
rested on her with the sympathy that is too truly felt to be
uttered in words. The admirable resignation which had learned its
first hard lesson under her mother's neglect--which had endured,
in after-years, the daily persecution that heartless
companionship so well knows how to inflict--failed to sustain
her, when one kind look from a stranger poured its balm into the
girl's sore heart. Her head sank; her wasted figure trembled; a
few tears dropped slowly on the bosom of her shabby dress. She
tried, desperately tried, to control herself. "I beg your pardon,
sir," was all she could say; "I am not very well."

Miss Wigger tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the door.
"Are you well enough to see your way out?" she asked.

Linley turned on the wretch with a mind divided between wonder
and disgust. "Good God, what has she done to deserve being
treated in that way?" he asked.