oing to be."

"Where are you going to now?"

She glanced towards Stephen.

"I am going to take her away with me," he declared sullenly, "as soon as
I can get my luggage on this cab."

"Letty," Macheson said, "a few hours ago Miss Thorpe-Hatton offered
Stephen Hurd a dowry for you of a thousand pounds, if he would promise
to bring you back as his wife. He refused. He has not the slightest
intention of making you his wife. I am sorry to have to speak so
plainly, but you see we haven't much time for beating about the bush,
have we? I want you to come with me to Berkeley Square. Mrs. Brown will
look after you."

She turned towards the young man piteously.

"Stephen," she said, "tell Mr. Macheson that he is mistaken. We are
going to be married, aren't we?"

"Yes," he answered. "At least I always meant to marry you. What I shall
do if every one starts bullying me I'm sure I don't know. Cut the whole
lot of you, I think, and be off to the Colonies."

"You don't mean that, Stephen," she begged.

He pointed to the cab laden now with his luggage.

"Will you get in or won't you, Letty?" he asked.

She shrank back.

"Stephen," she said, "I thought that you were going to bring mother up
with you."

He laughed hardly.

"Your mother wasn't ready," he said. "We can send for her later."

"Don't you think, Stephen," she pleaded, "that it would be nice for me
to stay with Mrs. Brown until--until we are married?"

"If you go to Mrs. Brown," he said gruffly, "you can stay with her.
That's all! I won't be fooled about any longer. Once and for all, are
you coming?"

She took a hesitating step forward, but Macheson led her firmly towards
another hansom.

"No!" he answered, "she is not. You know where she will be when you have
the marriage license."

Stephen sprang into his cab with an oath. Even then Letty would have
followed him, but Macheson held her arm.

"You stay here, Letty," he said firmly.

She covered her face with her hands, but she obeyed.

CHAPTER X

MYSTERIES IN MAYFAIR

That night, and for many nights afterwards, Macheson devoted himself to
his work in the East End. The fascination of the thing grew upon him; he
threw himself into his task with an energy which carried him often out
of his own life and made forgetfulness an easy task. Night after night
they came, these tired, white-faced women, with a sprinkling of sullen,
dejected-looking men; night after night he pleaded and reasoned with