Rich's arm.

"No; it is impossible," replied Rich; and with the feeling upon her that
it was her duty to suffer for all in turn, and be calm and patient, she
fought down her own longing to burst into a passionate fit of weeping,
and walked on to resume her watch by her father's side, where he lay
still insensible, as if in a sleep which must end in death.

"Rich dear, if it is true, and poor Mark was drugged and robbed, the
wretch who did it shall be brought to justice, shall he not?"

"Yes," said Rich, as she clasped the weeping girl to her breast.

And as she sat there in the silent chamber, through the dark watches of
the night, at times a feeling of exultation and joy filled her breast,
while at others a hot pang of rage shot through her, and she felt that
she could slay the wretch who had raised a hand against him who had
returned to her as from the dead.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

JANET IS HAUNTED.

A fortnight passed, and Mark was able to join his sister at her lodging,
from which she was out all day.

It was very hard work, that lesson-giving at different houses, but
little Janet trudged on from place to place, rarely ever travelling by
omnibus unless absolutely obliged, so that she might economise and make
her earnings help out her income of twenty-one pounds per annum.

Rather a small sum in London, but it was safe. Seven hundred pounds'
worth of stock in the Three per Cents., and bringing in ten pounds ten
shillings every half-year.

One evening, as she was returning on foot, walking very rapidly, so as
to get back as soon as possible to Mark, her heart sank, and she felt
faint in spirit as she thought of her future and its prospects. To go
on teach, teach, teach, and try to make stupid girls achieve something
approaching skill in handling their brushes, so that parents might be
satisfied. For, poor girl, she found what most teachers do, that when a
child does not progress, it is always the instructor's fault, not that
of the disciple.

"I shall be better when I've had some tea," she said to herself, as the
tears gathered in her eyes. "Why do I murmur so? Rich never complains,
and her troubles are as great as mine. I ought to be glad and rejoice
that poor Mark has come back safely, and--there he is again."

Janet's little heart beat wildly with fear as a tall muffled-up figure
appeared from a doorway in the sombre-looking square into which she had
turned from the street where she gave lessons