There must be something behind the missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor suspected. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. Earles’ office, “was your last resource. “Please have a seat. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk.
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