in the happiness of the protected child now with you. And God will bless
you in your own child at home. And God will bless you in your own
remembrances. And this from me!"

He had barely time to catch a bouquet from her hand, when the train was
flying through the night. Round the paper that enfolded it was bravely
written (doubtless by the nephew who held the pen of an Angel), "Homage
to the friend of the friendless."

"Not bad people, Bebelle!" said Mr. The Englishman, softly drawing the
mantle a little from her sleeping face, that he might kiss it, "though
they are so--"

Too "sentimental" himself at the moment to be able to get out that word,
he added nothing but a sob, and travelled for some miles, through the
moonlight, with his hand before his eyes.




CHAPTER III--HIS BROWN-PAPER PARCEL


My works are well known. I am a young man in the Art line. You have
seen my works many a time, though it's fifty thousand to one if you have
seen me. You say you don't want to see me? You say your interest is in
my works, and not in me? Don't be too sure about that. Stop a bit.

Let us have it down in black and white at the first go off, so that there
may be no unpleasantness or wrangling afterwards. And this is looked