yielded, as he saw that Madge had set her heart on it. Mother
Guttersnipe objected at first, characterising the whole affair as
"cussed 'umbug," but she, likewise, gave in, and Sal became maid to
Miss Frettlby, who immediately set to work to remedy Sal's defective
education by teaching her to read. The book she held in her hand was a
spelling-book, and this she handed to Madge.

"I think I knows it now, miss," she said, respectfully, as Madge looked
up with a smile.

"Do you, indeed?" said Madge, gaily. "You will be able to read in no
time, Sal."

"Read this?" said Sal, touching "Tristan: A Romance, by Zoe."

"Hardly!" said Madge, picking it up, with a look of contempt.

"I want you to learn English, and not a confusion of tongues like this
thing. But it's too hot for lessons, Sal," she went on, leaning back in
her seat, "so get a chair and talk to me."

Sal complied, and Madge looked out at the brilliant flower-beds, and at
the black shadow of the tall witch elm which grew on one side of the
lawn. She wanted to ask a certain question of Sal, and did not know how
to do it. The moodiness and irritability of Brian had troubled her very
much of late, and, with the quick instinct of her sex, she ascribed it
indirectly to the woman who had died in the back slum. Anxious to share
his troubles and lighten his burden, she determined to ask Sal about
this mysterious woman, and find out, if possible, what secret had been
told to Brian which affected him so deeply.

"Sal," she said, after a short pause, turning her clear grey eyes on
the woman, "I want to ask you something."

The other shivered and turned pale.

"About--about that?"

Madge nodded.

Sal hesitated for a moment, and then flung herself at the feet of her
mistress.

"I will tell you," she cried. "You have been kind to me, an' have a
right to know. I will tell you all I know."

"Then," asked Madge, firmly, as she clasped her hands tightly together,
"who was this woman whom Mr. Fitzgerald went to see, and where did she
come from?"

"Gran' an' me found her one evenin' in Little Bourke Street," answered
Sal, "just near the theatre. She was quite drunk, an' we took her home
with us."

"How kind of you," said Madge.

"Oh, it wasn't that," replied the other, dryly. "Gran' wanted her
clothes; she was awful swell dressed."

"And she took the clothes--how wicked!"

"Anyone would have done it down our way," answered Sal, indifferently;
"but Gran' change