s hard to
reconcile with the idea of a beneficent Providence."

"Hard? Impossible, you mean!"

"Glory!"

"Oh, I'm only a pagan, and always have been; but I can't believe in a God
that does nothing--I won't, I won't!"

"Still, we can't see the end yet. After the cross the resurrection, as
the Church folks say; and who knows but out of all this----"

"What's to become of his church?"

"Oh, there'll be people enough to see to that, and if the dear
Archdeacon--but he's busy with Mrs. Macrae, bless him! She has gone to
wreck at last, and is living hidden away in a farmhouse somewhere, that
she may drink herself to death without detection and interruption. But
the Archdeacon and Lord Robert have found her out, and there they are
hovering round like two vultures, waiting for the end."

"And his orphanage?"

"Ah, that's another pair of shoes altogether, dear. Being an institution
that asks for an income instead of giving one, there'll be nobody too
keen to take it over."

"O God! O God! What a world it is!" cried Glory.

After dinner she went off to Westminster in search of the orphanage. It
stood on a corner of the church square. The door was closed, and the
windows of the ground floor were shuttered. With difficulty she obtained
admission and access to the person in charge. This was an elderly lady in
a black silk dress and with snow-white hair.

"I'm no the matron, miss," she said. "The matron's gone--fled awa' like
a' the lave o' the grand Sisters, thinking sure the mob would mak' this
house their next point of attack."

"Then I know whom _you_ are--you're Mrs. Callender," said Glory.

"Jane Callender I am, young leddy. And who may ye be yersel'?"

"I'm a friend of John's, and I want to know if there's anything----"

"You're no the lassie hersel', are ye? You are, though; I see fine you
are! Come, kiss me--again, lassie! Oh, dear! oh, dear! And to think we
must be meeting same as this! For a' the world it's like clasping hands
ower the puir laddie's grave!"

They cried in each other's arms, and then both felt better.

"And the children," said Glory, "who's looking after them if the matron
and Sisters are gone?"

"Just me and the puir bairns theirsel's, and the wee maid of all wark
that opened the door til ye. But come your ways and look at them."

The dormitory was in an upper story. Mrs. Gallender had opened the door
softly, and Glory stepped into a large dark room in which fifty children
lay asleep