funeral train.

The heat of the weather was so great, and the gentleman was so
absent-minded, that he had taken off his hat and forgotten to put it on
again as he went down the squalid street. Caroline could see the stern
look given to his countenance by the way the hair was brushed from his
forehead. The strong impression, devoid of charm, made on the girl by
this man's appearance was totally unlike any sensation produced by the
other passengers who used the street; for the first time in her life
she was moved to pity for some one else than herself and her mother;
she made no reply to the absurd conjectures that supplied material for
the old woman's provoking volubility, and drew her long needle in
silence through the web of stretched net; she only regretted not
having seen the stranger more closely, and looked forward to the
morrow to form a definite opinion of him.

It was the first time, indeed, that a man passing down the street had
ever given rise to much thought in her mind. She generally had nothing
but a smile in response to her mother's hypotheses, for the old woman
looked on every passer-by as a possible protector for her daughter.
And if such suggestions, so crudely presented, gave rise to no evil
thoughts in Caroline's mind, her indifference must be ascribed to the
persistent and unfortunately inevitable toil in which the energies of
her sweet youth were being spent, and which would infallibly mar the
clearness of her eyes or steal from her fresh cheeks the bloom that
still colored them.

For two months or more the "Black Gentleman"--the name they had given
him--was erratic in his movements; he did not always come down the Rue
du Tourniquet; the old woman sometimes saw him in the evening when he