d. Perhaps I
shall take a leaf out of your book and 'comb her hair,' when I get her
all alone in the train to-morrow, that she may be prepared for the new
sphere to which it has pleased Providence to call her.

"Good-bye again! I see the lamps of Euston running after each other, only
it's the _other_ way this time. I find there is something that seizes you
with a fiercer palpitation than coming _into_ a great and wonderful city,
and that is going out of one. Dear old London! After all, it has been
very good to me. No one, it seems to me, loves it as much as I do. Only
somebody thinks--well, never mind! Goodbye 'for all!' Glory."

At seven next morning, on the platform at Euston, Glory was standing with
melancholy eyes at the door of a first-class compartment watching the
people sauntering up and down, talking in groups and hurrying to and fro,
when Drake stepped up to her. She did not ask what had brought him--she
knew. He looked fresh and handsome, and was faultlessly dressed.

"You are doing quite right, my dear," he said in a cheerful voice.
"Koenig telegraphed, and I came to see you off. Don't bother about the
theatre; leave everything to me. Take a rest after your great excitement,
and come back bright and well."

The locomotive whistled and began to pant, the smoke rose to the roof,
the train started, and before Glory knew she was going she was gone.

Then Drake walked to his club and wrote this postscript to a letter to
Lord Robert Ure, at the Grand Hotel, Paris: "The Parson has drawn first
blood, and Gloria has gone home!"

VI.

On the Sunday evening after Glory's departure John Storm, with the
bloodhound running by his side, made his way to Soho in search of the
mother of Brother Andrew. He had come to a corner of a street where the
walls of an ugly brick church ran up a narrow court and turned into a
still narrower lane at the back. The church had been for some time
disused, and its facade was half covered with boardings and plastered
with placards: "Brighton and Back, 3_s_."; "_Lloyd's News_"; "Coals,
1_s_. a cwt."; and "Barclay's Sparkling Ales."

There was a tumult in the court and lane. In the midst of a close-packed
ring of excited people, chiefly foreigners, shouting in half the
languages of Europe, a tall young Cockney, with bloated face and eyes
aflame with drink, was writhing and wrestling and cursing. Sometimes he
escaped from the grasp of the man who held him, and then he flung himse