y the bye, have you a pension from the railway company?"

"Not a penny, sir," she declared, "and a burning shame it is."

"We must see into it," Brooks said. "You see that gentleman behind me?"

"Him with the squint?" she asked, doubtfully.

Brooks bent over his book.

"Mr. Fellows, his name is," he said. "He is one of our helpers here,
and he is a lawyer. You can tell him all about it, and if we think you
have a claim we will try and see what we can do for you. Now, if you
please, we must get on. Come in any time, Mrs. Jones, and talk to us.
Some one is, always here. What is your name, please?"

"Amy Hardinge!"

There was a howl of derision from the rear. The girl, pallid, with
large dark eyes, a somewhat tawdry hat and torn skirt, turned angrily
around.

"Who yer shouting at, eh? There ain't so many of yer as knows yer own
names, I dir say, and 'Ardinge's as good as any other. Leave a body be,
won't yer?"

She turned round to Brooks, and disclosed a most alarming rent in her
gown.

"Look 'ere, guv'nor," she said, "that's my name, and I 'as a back room
behind old Connel's fish-shop next door but one to 'ere. If yer want to
give away things to them as wants 'em, wot price a new skirt 'ere, eh?"

A woman from the rear leaned over to Brooks.

"The 'ussy," she said. "Don't you take no notice of 'er, sir. We all
knows 'er--and precious little good there is ter know."

Miss Hardinge was not unreasonably annoyed. She turned round with
flashing eyes and belligerent attitude.

"Who the 'ell asked you anything?" she exclaimed. "Can't yer keep your
bloomin' mouths closed?"

A pale-faced little man pushed his way through the throng. He was
dressed in a semi-clerical garb, and he tapped Brooks on the shoulder.

"Can you favour me with one moment's private conversation, sir?" he
said. "My name is John Deeling, and I am a minister of the Gospel. The
Mission House in Fennell Street is my special charge."

"Glad to know you, Mr. Deeling," Brooks answered, "but I can't spare
any time for private conversation now. Can't you speak to me here?"

Mr. Deeling looked doubtfully at the girl who stood still before the
desk, silent, but breathing hard. A sullen shade had fallen upon her
face. She looked like a creature at bay.

"It is concerning-this unfortunate young person."

"I can assure you," Brooks said, dipping his pen in the ink, "that no
recommendation is necessary. I shall do what I can for her."

"You misappr