. St. John Deloraine's service, and then my whole course of
life was altered."

"I am very sorry for you," said Barton, simply. He did not know what
else to say; but he felt more than his conventional words indicated, and
perhaps he looked as if he felt it and more.

Margaret was still too weak to bear an expression of sympathy, and tears
came into her eyes, followed by a blush on her pale, thin cheeks. She
was on the point of breaking down.

There is nothing in the world so trying to a young man as to see a girl
crying. A wild impulse to kiss and comfort her passed through Barton's
mind, before he said, awkwardly again:

"I can't tell you how sorry I am; I wish I could do anything for you.
Can't I help you in any way? You must not give up so early in the
troubles of life; and then, who knows but yours, having begun soon, are
nearly over?"

Barton would perhaps have liked to ask her to let him see that they
_were_ over, as far as one mortal can do as much for another.

"They have been going on so long," said Margaret "I have had such a
wandering life, and such changes."

Barton would have given much to be able to ask for more information; but
more was not offered.

"Let us think of the future," he said. "Have you any idea about what you
mean to do?"

"Mrs. St. John Deloraine is very kind. She wishes me to stay with her
always. But I am puzzled about Mr. Cranley. I don't know what he would
like me to do. He seems to have gone abroad."

Barton hated to hear her mention Cranley's name.

"Had you known him long?" he asked.

"No; for a very short time only. But he was an old friend of my
father's, and had promised him to take care of me. He took me away from
school, and he gave me a start in life."

"But surely he might have found something more worthy of you, of your
education," said Barton.

"What can a girl do?" answered Margaret. "We know so little. I could
hardly even have taught very little children. They thought me dreadfully
backward at school--at least, Miss---- I mean, the teachers thought me
backward."

"I'm sure you know as much as anyone should," said Barton, indignantly.
"Were you at a nice school?" he added.

He had been puzzling himself for many days over Margaret's history.
She seemed to have had at least the ordinary share of education and
knowledge of the world; and yet he had found her occupying a menial
position at a philanthropic bunhouse. Even now she was a mere dependent
of Mrs.