They were soon conversing, each helping to paint the scene of the place
where they had met.

'Lord Fleetwood has married me,' she said.

Gower bent his head; all stood silent.

'May I?' said Madge to her. 'It is Lord Fleetwood's wedded wife, sir.
He drove her from her uncle's, on her wedding day, the day of a prize-
fight, where I was; he told me to wait on his lady at an inn there, as I
've done and will. He drove away that evening, and he hasn't'--the
girl's black eyebrows worked: 'I've not seen him since. He's a great
nobleman, yes. He left his lady at the inn, expenses paid. He left her
with no money. She stayed on till her heart was breaking. She has come
to London to find him. She had to walk part of the way. She has only a
change of linen we brought in a parcel. She's a stranger to England: she
knows nobody in London. She had no place to come to but this poor hole
of ours she 's so good as let welcome her. We can't do better, and it 's
no use to be ashamed. She 's not a lady to scorn poor people.'

The girl's voice hummed through Gower.

He said: 'Lord Fleetwood may not be in London,' and chafed at himself for
such a quaver.

'It's his house we want, sir, he has not been at his house in Kent. We
want his London house.'

'My dear lady,' said Mr. Woodseer; 'it might be as well to communicate
the state of things to your family without delay. My son will call at