to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek.

'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and
well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her
tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient
gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because
fate had left her without a protector.

Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about;
but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch
your hare and then--" so, just catch your policeman. But believe me,
they rarely appear together,--your tormentor of women and your
policeman,--unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then
what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing
against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best
defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl.

Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and
turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a
sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish
that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a
pity _I'm_ not," and disappeared in the dark side street.

After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home
nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past
experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls--they
only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety,
though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk
shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then.