came a four-wheeled cab up to the dingy door, to the
vast amazement of the other lodgers, and, indeed, the entire
neighborhood. Into this Herr Kreutzer handed his delightful daughter
with as much consideration as a minister could show a queen, and then,
with courtly bows, climbed in himself, having, with much ceremony,
bade the landlady adieu. Anna cast a keen glance all about, expecting
a last glimpse of M'riar, but had none and was grieved. So soon do
the affections of the lower classes fade!

After the cab started, the Herr Kreutzer carefully pulled down the
blinds a little way, on both side windows, so that the inside of the
cab was dark enough to make it impossible for wayfarers to note who
was within.

"Father," said Anna, curiously, "why do you pull down the blinds?"

"Er--er--mine eyes. The light is--"

He did not complete the sentence.

"Father," she asked presently, "why did you change the tickets?"

"Change the tickets, Anna? I have not changed the tickets."

"But you told the landlady we were to sail from Southampton. The
tickets, which you showed to me, say Liverpool."

"A little strategy, mine Anna; just a little strategy."

"I do not understand."

"No, liebschen; you do not," he granted gravely.

A moment later and the cab jounced over a loose paving-block, almost
unseating M'riar from her place on the rear springs. The little scream
she gave attracted the attention of the vehicle's two passengers and
they peered from the window at the rear; but it was small and high and
they did not catch sight through it of the strange, ragged little
figure, with the set, determined face, which was clinging to their
chariot with a desperate tenacity.

M'riar's feelings would have been difficult of real analysis and she
did not try to analyze them, any more than a devoted dog who
desperately follows his loved master when that master is not cognizant
of it and does not wish it, tries to analyze the dog-emotions which
compel him to cling to the trail. Such a dog knows quite enough, at
such a time, to keep clear of his master's view, although his
following is an expression of his love and though that love is born,
he knows, of like love in his master's heart for him. M'riar was
yielding to an uncontrolled, an uncontrollable impulse of love, and,
though her brain was active with the cunning of the slums, had not the
least idea of combatting it, or letting anything less strong than
actual death would be in its