identally he
stopped to say he was sorry.

Of course baby was the talisman that protected me from harm; and what I
should have done without her when I got to the Mansion house I do not
know, for that seemed to be the central heart of all the London traffic,
with its motor-buses and taxi-cabs going in different directions and its
tremendous tides of human life flowing every way.

But just as I was standing, dazed and deafened on the edge of a triangle
of streets, looking up at a great building that was like a rock on the
edge of a noisy sea, and bore on its face the startling inscription,
"The Earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof," a big policeman,
seeing me with baby in my arms, held up his hand to the drivers and
shouted to the pedestrians ("Stand a-one side, please"), and then led me
safely across, as if the Red Sea had parted to let us pass.

It was then twelve o'clock and baby was once more crying for her food,
so I looked for a place in which I might rest while I gave her the
bottle again.

Suddenly I came upon what I wanted. It seemed to be a garden, but it was
a graveyard--one of the graveyards of the old London churches, enclosed
by high buildings now, and overlooked by office windows.

Such a restful place, so green, so calm, so beautiful! Lying there in
the midst of the tumultuous London traffic, it reminded me of one of the
little islands in the middle of our Ellan glens, on which the fuchsia
and wild rose grow while the river rolls and boils about it.

I had just sat down on a seat that had been built about a gnarled and
blackened old tree, and was giving baby her food, when I saw that a
young girl was sitting beside me.

She was about nineteen years of age, and was eating scones out of a
confectioner's bag, while she read a paper-covered novel. Presently she
looked at baby with her little eyes, which were like a pair of shiny
boot buttons, and said:

"That your child?"

I answered her, and then she asked:

"Do you like children?"

I answered her again, and asked her if she did not like them also.

"Can't say I'm particularly gone on them," she said, whereupon I replied
that that was probably because she had not yet had much experience.

"Oh, haven't I? Perhaps I haven't," she said, and then with a hard
little laugh, she added "Mother's had nine though."

I asked if she was a shop assistant, and with a toss of her head she
told me she was a typist.

"Better screw and your evenings o