“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. Brown strode to center stage and Lucy quieted the instruments with a gesture. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. When I found you, you were almost completely insane. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. 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. It was a society column about the richest men in the world and their lavish parties.
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