was nearly run down by two men
whom he had known at Oxford. They shouted to him to get out of
the way; and he felt the hot defiant blood rushing through his
veins, as he strode across without heeding. They passed on, one
of them having to pull his horse out of his stride to avoid him.
Did they recognize him? He felt a strange mixture of utter
indifference, and longing to strangle them.

The worst was now over; besides, he was getting used to the
situation, and his good sense was beginning to rally. So he
marched through Albert Gate, carrying his ragged little charge,
who prattled away to him without a pause, and surrounded by the
rest of the children, scarcely caring who might see him.

They won safely through the omnibuses and carriages on the
Kensington Road, and so into Belgravia. At last he was quite at
his ease again, and began listening to what the child was saying
to him, and was strolling carelessly along, when once more at one
of the crossings, he was startled by a shout from some riders.
There was straw laid down in the street, so that he had not heard
them as they cantered round the corner, hurrying home to dress
for dinner; and they were all but upon him, and had to rein up
their horses sharply.

The party consisted of a lady and two gentlemen, one old, the
other young--the latter dressed in the height of fashion, and
with the supercilious air which Tom hated from his soul. The
shout came from the young man, and drew Tom's attention to him
first. All the devil rushed up as he recognized St. Cloud. The
lady's horse swerved against his, and began to rear. He put his
hand on its bridle, as if he had a right to protect her. Another
glance told Tom that the lady was Mary, and the old gentleman,
fussing up on his stout cob on the other side of her, Mr. Porter.

They all knew him in another moment. He stared from one to the
other, was conscious that she turned her horse's head sharply, so
as to disengage the bridle from St. Cloud's hand, and of his
insolent stare, and of the embarrassment of Mr. Porter, and then,
setting his face straight before him, he passed on in a
bewildered dream, never looking back till they were out of sight.
The dream gave way to bitter and wild thoughts, upon which it
will do none of us any good to dwell. He put down the little girl
outside the schools, turning abruptly from the mother, a poor
widow in scant, well-preserved black clothes who was waiting for
the child, and began tha