Brian of course took all the blame to himself, and apologized
profusely; but though he would have given much to detain her, if
only a moment, she gave him no opportunity, but with a slight
inclination passed rapidly on. He stood quite still, watching her
till she was out of sight, aware of a sudden change in his life.
He was a busy hard-working man, not at all given to dreams, and it
was no dream that he was in now. He knew perfectly well that he
had met his ideal, had spoken to her and she to him; that somehow
in a single moment a new world had opened out to him. He had
fallen in love.

The trifling occurrence had made no great impression on the "little
girl" herself. She was rather vexed with herself for the
carelessness, but a much deeper trouble was filling her heart. She
soon forgot the passing interruption and the brown-bearded man with
the pleasant gray eyes who had apologized for what was quite her
fault. Something had gone wrong that day, as Brian had surmised;
the eyes grew brighter, the carnation flush deepened as she hurried
along, the delicate lips closed with a curiously hard expression,
the hands were clasped with unnecessary tightness round the
umbrella.

She passed up Guilford Square, but did not turn into any of the old
decayed houses; her home was far less imposing. At the corner of
the square there is a narrow opening which leads into a sort of
blind alley paved with grim flagstones. Here, facing a high blank
wall, are four or five very dreary houses. She entered one of
these, put down her wet umbrella in the shabby little hall, and
opened the door of a barely furnished room, the walls of which