four-and-twenty.
His name was Hardy. He was a handsome fellow; he had fallen in love
with Alison almost from the first moment he had seen her. A week ago
he had asked her to be his wife; she had not yet given him her answer,
but she had long ago given him her heart.

Now everything was changed; a sudden and very terrible blow had fallen
on the proud girl. Her pride was humiliated to the very dust. She had
held her head high, and it was now brought low. She resolved never to
look at Hardy again. Nothing would induce her to go back to the shop.
Oh, yes, Grannie might go to Mr. Shaw and talk as much as she liked,
but nothing would make matters straight now.

Mrs. Reed was very quick about all she said and did. She was tired
after her long morning of waiting in the Out-Patients' Department of
the London Hospital, but mere bodily fatigue meant very little to her.
One of her nurslings--the special darling of her heart--was humiliated
and in danger. It was her duty to go to the rescue. She put on her
black bonnet and neat black shawl, encased her little hands once again
in her white cotton gloves, and walked briskly through the kitchen.

"I'm off, Ally," she said. "I'll be back soon with good news."

Then she paused near the door.

"Ef you have a bit of time you might go on with some of the
needlework," she said.

She thought of the hand which ached so sorely.

"Yes, Grannie," replied Alison, turning slowly and looking at her.

"You'll find the basket in the cupboard, love. I'm doing the
feather-stitching now; don't you spoil the pattern."

"No, Grannie," answered the girl. Then she added abruptly, her lips
quivering: "There aint no manner of use in your going out and tiring
yourself."

"Use or not, I am going," said Mrs. Reed.

"By the way, if Jim should happen to come in, be sure you keep him. I
have a bit of a saveloy in the cupboard to make a flavor for his tea.
Don't you bother with that feather-stitching if Jim should be here."

"He won't be here," said Alison, compressing her lips.

Mrs. Reed pottered down the long steep flight of steps, and soon found
herself in the street. The fog had grown thicker than ever. It was
very dense indeed now. It was so full of sulphuric acid that it
smarted the eyes and hurt the throats and lungs of the unfortunate
people who were obliged to be out in it. Grannie coughed as she
threaded her way through the well-known streets.

"Dear, dear," she kept mutte