d him in safety.

Miss Merriman nodded and smiled her thanks.

"There, you are all right now. What is the matter Mr. Ferrers?"

"I thought some one touched me," he returned, with a puzzled look,
"and you were on my other side, so I suppose it was some kind
stranger."

"Yes, a young lady," as Crystal moved away rather suddenly. "Ah! there
is a footman; he seems in search of some one. I will ask him if he be
looking for you," and Miss Merriman darted away.

Raby stood quietly waiting, but he little knew that the girl whom he
had come to London to seek was standing a few yards from him, trying
to see him through the tears that blinded her.

Many people turned to look after the tall, striking-looking man in
clerical dress. The felt hat just shaded the pale, massively cut
features. He looked older, Crystal thought, and a little sadder, but
the mouth was as beautiful as ever.

Once he looked up as hasty footsteps brushed him, as though he would
move aside, but a girlish figure interposed between him and the loaded
truck, and again the little hand guided him to safety.

"It is all right--the man says he is waiting for Mr. Ferrers,"
observed Miss Merriman briskly at this moment. "What horrid things
those trucks are; I was afraid one would have knocked you, only the
young lady led you away."

"What! a young lady?" asked Raby, quickly.

"Oh, only a tall young lady in brown, who seemed to notice you wanted
help. She has gone now--probably a passenger for the down-train."

"I think all young ladies are good to me," returned Raby, with grave
courtesy, holding out his hand. "I know I have met with a very kind
fellow-passenger;" and then, as he took the footman's arm and entered
the carriage, Miss Merriman saw the tall young lady in brown walk
quickly out of the station, and as she passed her there were tears
running down her cheeks.

CHAPTER XXVII.

FLUFF GOES TO SEE GRANDPAPA.

Thou, like a little curious fly
That fusses through the air,
Dost pry and pry
With thy keen inquisitive eye.

And with many questions, ever
Rippling like a restless river,
Puzzling many an older brain
Dost thou hour by hour increase thy store
Of marvelous lore.
Thus a squirrel, darting deftly,
Up and down autumnal trees,
Sees its hoard of chestnuts growing swiftly
In a heap upon the leaf-strewn leas.

CLAUDE LAKE.

"And now, I look almost as sma