shabby, that I looked poor, and I fancied that she must discern on
my face the traces of the bad habits I had contracted. But she did
not, or would not, see anything. She held out her hand, and said in
her gentle voice:

"'I am very glad to see you again, Mr. Warren. I have inquired about
you, but neither my father nor Francis could tell me what had become
of you. I want to ask you to resume the lessons you used to give me.
Perhaps you do not know where I live? This is my address,' and she
gave me her card.

"I stammered out a few unmeaning words in reply to her invitation.
She looked at me, smiling kindly the while; but suddenly the smile
vanished, and she added, 'Have you been ill, Mr. Warren? You seem
worn.'

"'Yes,' I answered, too glad to find an excuse for my appearance--
'yes, I have been ill, and I am still suffering.'

"'I am very sorry,' she said, in a low voice.

"Laugh at me, Hermann--call me an incorrigible madman; but believe
me when I say that her looks conveyed to me the impression of more
than common interest or civility. A thrilling sense of pain shot
through my frame. What had I done that I should be so cruelly tried?
A mist passed before my eyes; anxiety, intemperance, sleeplessness,
had made me weak. I tottered backwards a few steps. She turned
horribly pale. All around us was the crowd--the careless,
indifferent crowd.