f a child.

"And how did this tale get about?"

"It's true," she said. "I was told to-night."

"Who told you?"

"A friend of mine--who's seen her!"

"But who?"

"It wouldn't be right for me to tell you who."

They walked on in an appalling silence to the corner of the Square and
the High Street.

"Here's the letter-box," he said, stopping.

She dropped the letters with nervous haste into the box. Then she looked
up at him appealingly. In the brightness of the starry night she saw
that his face had a sardonic, meditative smile. The middle part of the
lower lip was pushed out, while the corners were pulled down--an
expression of scornful disgust. She burst out:

"Of course, I know very well it's not your fault. I know, if you'd
_known_... but what with her never seeing you, and perhaps people not
caring to--"

"I'm very much obliged to you," he interrupted her quietly, still
meditative. He was evidently sincere. His attitude was dignified. Many
men would have been ashamed, humiliated, even though aware of innocence.
But he contrived to rise above such weakness. She was glad; she admired
him. And she was very glad also that he did not deign to asseverate that
he had been ignorant of his half-sister's plight. Naturally he had been
ignorant!

III

She was suddenly happy; she was inspired by an unreasoning joy. She was
happy because she was so young and fragile and inexperienced, and he so
much older, and more powerful and more capable. She was happy because
she was a mere girl and he a mature and important male. She thought
their relation in that moment exquisitely beautiful. She was happy
because she had been exceedingly afraid and the fear had gone. The dark
Square and far-stretching streets lay placid and void under the night,
surrounding their silence in a larger silence: and because of that also
she was happy. A policeman with his arms hidden under his cloak marched
unhasting downwards from the direction of the Bank.

"Fine night, officer," said Mr. Cannon cordially.

"Yes, sir. Good night, sir," the policeman responded, with respect and
sturdy self-respect, his footsteps ringing onwards.

And the sight and bearing of this hardy, frost-defying policeman
watching over the town, and the greetings between him and Mr. Cannon--
these too seemed strangely beautiful to Hilda. And then a train
reverberated along its embankment in the distance, and the gliding
procession of yellow windows was divided at r