that was hurrying past him with a basket on her arm, regain the
sidewalk with a swiftness that argued his desire to stop her. Of
course I let the car pass me, though I did not dare approach him too
closely after my late conspicuous attempt to enter it with him. But
from my stand on the opposite curb-stone I saw him draw aside the
girl, who from her garments might have been the daughter or wife of
any one of the shiftless, drinking wretches lounging about on the
four corners within my view, and after talking earnestly with her for
a few moments, saunter at her side down Broome Street, still talking.
Reckless at this sight of the consequences which might follow his
detection of the part I was playing, I hasted after them, when I was
suddenly disconcerted by observing him hurriedly separate from the
girl and turn towards me with intention as it were to regain the
corner he had left. Weighing in an instant the probable good to be
obtained by following either party, I determined to leave Mr. Blake
for one day to himself, and turn my attention to the girl he had
addressed, especially as she was tall and thin and bore herself with
something like grace.

Barely bestowing a glance upon him, then, as he passed, in a vain
attempt to read the sombre expression of his inscrutable face grown
five years older in the last five days, I shuffled after the girl now
flitting before me down Broome Street. As I did so, I noticed her
dress to its minutest details, somewhat surprised to find how ragged
and uncouth it was. That Mr. Blake should stop a girl wherever seen,
clad in a black alpaca frock, a striped shawl and a Bowery hat
trimmed with feathers, I could easily understand; but that this
creature with her faded calico dress, dingy cape thrown carelessly
over her head, and ragged basket, should arrest his attention, was a
riddle to me. I hastened forward with intent to catch a glimpse of