g his
hand on Granger with the tenderness of a father. "But, thank God! it
is over. You have stood the terrible heat, and now, coming out of the
furnace, I shall see to it that not even the smell of fire remain upon
your garments."

Still the young man could not be moved from his purpose to remain at the
asylum until he had seen and conferred with his friends, in whose hands
Mr. Dinneford placed the governor's pardon and the affidavit of Lloyd
Freeling setting forth his innocence.

Mrs. Bray did not call on Mr. Dinneford, as she had promised. She had
quarreled with Pinky Swett, as the reader will remember, and in a fit
of blind anger thrust her from the room. But in the next moment she
remembered that she did not know where the girl lived, and if she lost
sight of her now, might not again come across her for weeks or months.
So putting on her hat and cloak hurriedly, she waited until she heard
Pinky going down stairs, and then came out noiselessly, and followed her
into the street. She had to be quick in her movements, for Pinky, hot
with anger, was dashing off at a rapid speed. For three or four blocks
Mrs. Bray kept her in view; but there being only a few persons in the
street, she had to remain at a considerable distance behind, so as not
to attract her attention. Suddenly, she lost sight of Pinky. She had
looked back on hearing a noise in the street; turning again, she could
see nothing of the girl. Hurrying forward to the corner which Pinky had
in all probability turned, Mrs. Bray looked eagerly up and down, but to
her disappointment Pinky was not in sight.

"Somewhere here. I thought it was farther off," said Mrs. Bray to
herself. "It's too bad that I should have lost sight of her."

She stood irresolute for a little while, then walked down one of the
blocks and back on the other side. Halfway down, a small street or alley
divided the block.

"It's in there, no doubt," said Mrs. Bray, speaking to herself again.
On the corner was a small shop in which notions and trimmings were sold.
Going into this, she asked for some trifling articles, and while looking
over them drew the woman who kept the shop into conversation.

"What kind of people live in this little street?" she inquired, in a
half-careless tone.

The woman smiled as she answered, with a slight toss of the head,

"Oh, all kinds."

"Good, bad and indifferent?"

"Yes, white sheep and black."

"So I thought. The black sheep will get in. You can't