oman who lived with Mrs. Burrows. "Her young man come and
took her up to Lon'on o' Saturday," said the woman.

Fenwick heard the words, but Mrs. Brattle did not hear them. It did
not occur to him not to believe the woman's statement, and all his
hopes about the poor creature were at once dashed to the ground. His
first feeling was no doubt one of resentment, that she had broken
her word to him. She had said that she would not go within a month
without letting him know that she was going; and there is no fault,
no vice, that strikes any of us so strongly as falsehood or injustice
against ourselves. And then the nature of the statement was so
terrible! She had gone back into utter degradation and iniquity. And
who was the young man? As far as he could obtain a clue, through the
information which had reached him from various sources, this young
man must be the companion of the Grinder in the murder and robbery of
Mr. Trumbull. "She has gone away, Mrs. Brattle," said he, with as sad
a voice as ever a man used.

"And where be she gone to, Mr. Fenwick? Cannot I go arter her?" He
simply shook his head and took her by the arm to lead her away. "Do
they know nothing of her, Mr. Fenwick?"

"She has gone away; probably to London. We must think no more about
her, Mrs. Brattle--at any rate for the present. I can only say that I
am very, very sorry that I brought you here."

The drive back to Bullhampton was very silent and very sad. Mrs.
Brattle had before her the difficulty of explaining her journey to
her husband, together with the feeling that the difficulty had been
incurred altogether for nothing. As for Fenwick, he was angry with
himself for his own past enthusiasm about the girl. After all, Mr.
Chamberlaine had shown himself to be the wiser man of the two. He
had declared it to be no good to take up special cases, and the
Vicar as he drove himself home notified to himself his assent with
the Prebendary's doctrine. The girl had gone off the moment she
had ascertained that her friends were aware of her presence and
situation. What to her had been the kindness of her clerical friend,
or the stories brought to her from her early home, or the dirt and
squalor of the life which she was leading? The moment that there was
a question of bringing her back to the decencies of the world, she
escaped from her friends and hurried back to the pollution which, no
doubt, had charms for her. He had allowed himself to think that in
spite o