the Street, giving her no
opportunity to frame a refusal. The little tea-place was warm and cosy.
He found a comfortable corner, and took her wet umbrella and cape away.

"I believe," he said, sitting down opposite her, "that I have saved your
life."

"Then I am not sure," she answered, "that I feel grateful to you. I
ought to have warned you that I am not in the least likely to be a
cheerful companion. I have had a most depressing afternoon."

"You have been to your tailor's," he suggested, "and your new gown is a
failure--or is it even worse than that?"

She laughed dubiously. Then the tea was brought, and for a moment their
conversation was interrupted. He thought her very graceful as she bent
forward and busied herself attending to his wants. Her affinity to
Selina and Louise was undistinguishable. It was true that she was pale,
but it was the pallor of refinement, the student's absence of colour
rather than the pallor of ill-health.

"Mr. Brooks," she said, presently, "you are busy with this election,
and you are brought constantly into touch with all classes of people.
Can you tell me why it is that it is so hard just now for poor people to
get work? Is it true, what they tell me, that many of the factories in
Medchester are closed, and many of those that are open are only working
half and three-quarter time?"

"I am afraid that it is quite true, Miss Scott," he answered. "As for
the first part of your question, it is very hard to answer. There seem
to be so many causes at work just now.

"But it is the work of the politician surely to analyze these causes.

"It should be," he answered. "Tell me what has brought this into your
mind."

"Some of the girls in our class," she said, "are out of work, and those
who have anything to do seem to be working themselves almost to death to
keep their parents or somebody dependent upon them. Two of them I am
anxious about. I have been trying to find them this afternoon. I have
heard things, Mr. Brooks, which have made me ashamed--sick at
heart--ashamed to go home and think how we live, while they die. And
these girls--they have known so much misery. I am afraid of what may
happen to them."

"These girls are mostly boot and shoe machinists, are they not?"

"Yes. But even Mr. Stuart says that he cannot find them work."

"It is only this afternoon that we have all been discussing this
matter," he said, gravely. "It is serious enough, God knows. The
manufacturer tell