was possessed with a
perverse feeling of irritation, as though he were guilty of the
restrictions laid upon her. That he was the innocent cause of some of
them could not be denied, for he was a very particular gentleman as to
his own and everyone else's deportment, and the sight of him always
raised in her a desire to do something shocking.

He smiled with genuine pleasure as he greeted her; though his manner
was formal and a trifle pompous.

"And how is Queen Elizabeth this afternoon?" he asked. "As radiant as
usual, I perceive."

She returned his greeting a trifle constrainedly, gave the requested
permission to accompany her, and walked demurely at his side, her eyes
cast down. She was wondering mischievously what he would say if she
should tell him her reasons for wishing to escape her afternoon's
engagement.

Their way led for a short distance along a splendid broad avenue that,
starting at the park, stretched away down into the heart of the city.
Its four rows of trees, drooping under their soft mantle of snow,
extended far into the dim white distance.

"Toronto is a fine city," said Mr. Huntley proudly, "and just at this
point one sees its best. Here are our legislative buildings, yonder a
glimpse of our University, here a hospital, there a church and----"

"And here," said Elizabeth, unexpectedly turning a corner--"another
aspect of the same city."

She had turned aside into a narrow alley, which, in but a few steps led
into a scene of painful contrast to the avenue. It was the slum
district--right in the center of the beautiful city--the worm at the
heart of the flower. Here the streets were narrow and dirty. Noisy
ragged children, Italian vendors, Jewish ragpickers, slatternly women,
and drunken men brushed against them as they passed.

"You should not have come this way, Miss Gordon," said Mr. Huntley
solicitously, as he guided her across the black muck of the crossing,
to which the snow had already been converted. "I hope you do not come
here alone."

"I was never here before," said Elizabeth. "How terrible to live in
comfort with this at one's back door, as it were." She shuddered.

Mr. Huntley looked slightly disturbed. "I am glad you are not one of
those sentimental young ladies of St. Stephen's, who have been seized
with the romantic idea that they can overturn conditions here. These
people are better left alone."

Elizabeth was silent. They had just passed a wee ragged girl, wh