pleased to recognise Jerry Shaw and the faithful
Lingo.

"He knows me! I do believe he knows
me!" she cried, patting the dog's rough head.

"Knows ye! Is it knows ye, Miss Bell?
Upon my word, you must suppose us to have
uncommonly short memories if we'd have
forgotten ye in this time!"

"Bur," said Mabel, apologetically, "I have
not seen Lingo since Kilclare."

"What matter? Don't I know ye again?
Though, indeed, we have both of us seen you
since then, although you may not have seen us.
Many an evening I've watched you getting into
your little carriage to go down to the theatre.
Lingo was afraid you'd be detecting us some
time; but you didn't."

"What, Mr. Shaw, you have been so long in
London, and never came to see an old friend?
That was not kind. I look upon myself as a
pupil of yours, do you know."

"My dear Miss Bell," rejoined the old man,
drawing himself up and speaking with some
dignity, "you are a very sweet young lady, and
a kind, and a generous; but my experience of
life has taught me that even very sweet and
amiable young ladies may be unwilling to claim
acquaintance, in their prosperity, with any
shabby poor devil with whom chance has made
them acquainted under other circumstances.
Now, I don't say that's your case," he added,
seeing that she was about to interrupt him;
"on the contrary, I am sure, quite sure, from
your reception of me to-day, that it is not; but,
now, looking at the thing from a common-sense
point of view, why would I have intruded on
ye? Would it have done me any good, or
given you any pleasure? Not the least. It is
so long since I have been used to the society
of my fellow-creatures, that I have ended by
being unfit for it. Time was, indeed, when I
might have been no disgrace to your drawing-
room; but that's all over. Lingo and I jog on
together; and let me tell you that it has seldom
been my lot to be in better company than
Lingo's!"

"I am very glad to see you and him."

"But you're wondering why, after keeping
away so long, I've made up my mind to come
and bore you at last. Aha? Well, this is the
state of the case, as briefly as I can put it.
You're fond of little Corda Trescott, and have
been kind to her. She worships you. The
child is ill and weak and fading. I've reason to
suspect that she has something preying on her
mind which is undermining her health just as
a canker ates up a poor little half-blown rose-
bud. I try to talk to her and win her confidence,
but my crabbed old fingers are too harsh
and rough to play upon such a delicate instrument
as Corda's heart. There needs a woman's
touch to bring the full music from those strings.
In short, I—I've suffered myself (like an old
fool as I am) to grow so fond of the little white
slip of a thing, that I am made miserable by the
sight of her sad sweet face looking so wistfully
at me day after day; and I resolved to come to
you and ask you to spare an hour—only one
hour now and then—to go and see the poor
darling. She is not happy in her home, Miss
Bell, as I dare say you know as well as I do;
and the sight of your kind face would be a
better cordial to her than all the wine."

Jerry finished his speech behind bis blue
checked pocket-handkerchief, and then gave an
unusually prolonged and defiant sniff, as though
to explain the gesture.

"The dear child! Poor, gentle, pretty little
Corda! Thank you a thousand times, Mr.
Shaw, for coming to me! I reproach myself
for not having inquired for her before now. I
will go to her this very day; this very hour.
Will you accompany me?"

Jerry gladly consented, and they set off
together.

"It's a great deal to ask of ye," muttered
Jerry, as they walked down Highgate-hill side
by side. "And it's too far for ye to walk, I'm
afraid. Over the water on the Surrey side of
Blackfriars-bridge."

"Not at all too far for me, Mr. Shaw. But
it is a question of time, is it not? The sooner
I reach Corda, the longer I shall be able to stay
with her, so I think we will take a cab, if you
have no objection."

"Does Corda know that you were coming to
me?" asked Mabel, presently, when they were
seated in the vehicle.

"No. I didn't like to run the risk of
disappointing her."

"The doubt did me a little injustice, Mr.
Shaw."

"It did you a great injustice. I'm ashamed
of it now."

"And tell me, is it likely that——Mr.
Shaw, I will speak frankly to you. I do not
wish to meet Mr. Alfred Trescott; and I should
be glad to hear that it is probable he will not be
at home now."

"I think I may say you will certainly not
meet him, Miss Bell. He is very seldom at
home at all. As for his sister, he takes no more
heed of her, the darling, than if she were made
of wood. Just a careless kiss, or a word now
and then, when he happens to think of it. Ah,
he's——I'd rather not say in your presence
what he is. But the little girl's affection for
him is the most pathetic thing I ever saw in my
life."

They reached Mr. Trescott's lodgings, and
Jerry Shaw went in first to prepare Corda for
the visit, while Mabel waited in the cab. Very
shortly the old man reappeared, and beckoned
her to enter the house. Corda was sitting on
a low chair near the window to have the light
upon some needlework she held in her hand.
Her head was bent down, and the rich curls of
her bright hair half concealed her face. At
Mabel's footsteps she jumped up, and ran to
her, holding out her arms. In the first moment,
Mabel thought her looking not so ill as old
Jerry had represented. Her cheeks had a red
glow, her eyes a liquid brightness. But she
was so weak that she tottered as she crossed