Purbrook Street Chapel?"

"And not all of them--no, nor one in ten," the merchant said
confidently, and with some approach to satisfaction. "Heaven must be a
very small place," Kate remarked, as she rose from the table.

"Are you going out?"

"I was thinking of having a stroll in the wood."

"Think over a text as you walk. It is an excellent commencement of the
day."

"What text should I think of?" she asked, standing smiling in the
doorway, with the bright sunshine bursting in behind her.

"'In the midst of life we are in death,'" he said solemnly. His voice
was so hollow and stern that it struck a chill into the girl's heart.
The effect was only momentary, however. The day was so fine, and the
breeze so fresh, that sadness was out of the question. Besides, was not
her deliverance at hand! On this of all mornings she should be free from
vague presentiments and dim forebodings. The change in her guardian's
manner was an additional cause for cheerfulness. She almost persuaded
herself that she had misconstrued his words and his intentions upon the
preceding day.

She went down the avenue and had a few words with the sentry there.
She felt no bitterness against him now--on the contrary, she could
afford to laugh at his peculiarities. He was in a very bad humour on
account of some domestic difficulties. His wife had been abusing him,
and had ended by assaulting him. "She used to argey first, and then
fetch the poker," he said ruefully; "but now it's the poker first, and
there ain't no argeyment at all."

Kate looked at his savage face and burly figure, and thought what a very
courageous woman his wife must be.

"It's all 'cause the fisher lasses won't lemme alone," he explained with
a leer. "She don't like it, knock me sideways if she do! It ain't my
fault, though. I allers had a kind o' a fetchin' way wi' women."

"Did you post my note?" asked Kate.

"Yes, in course I did," he answered. "It'll be in Lunnon now, most
like." His one eye moved about in such a very shifty way as he spoke
that she was convinced that he was telling a lie. She could not be
sufficiently thankful that she had something else to rely upon besides
the old scoundrel's assurances.

There was nothing to be seen down the lane except a single cart with a
loutish young man walking at the horse's head. She had a horror of the
country folk since her encounter with the two bumpkins upon the Sunday.
She therefore slipped away fro