breathlessly, and like one insane. Her mind was,
indeed, for the time, gone; and had a river flowed before her way, she
would have plunged into an escape from a world that seemed too narrow to
hold a father and his child.

But just as she turned the corner of a street that led into the more
public thoroughfares, she felt her arm grasped, and a voice called out
her name in surprised and startled accents.

"Heavens, Mrs. Butler! Alice! What do I see? What is the matter?"

"Oh, sir, save me!--you are a good man--a great man--save me--he is
returned!"

"He! who? Mr. Butler?" said the banker (for that gentleman it was) in a
changed and trembling voice.

"No, no--ah, not he!--I did not say _he_--I said my father--my,
my--ah--look behind--look behind--is he coming?"

"Calm yourself, my dear young friend--no one is near. I will go and
reason with your father. No one shall harm you--I will protect you. Go
back--go back, I will follow--we must not be seen together." And the
tall banker seemed trying to shrink into a nutshell.

"No, no," said Alice, growing yet paler, "I cannot go back."

"Well, then, just follow me to the door--your servant shall get you your
bonnet, and accompany you to my house, where you can wait till I
return. Meanwhile I will see your father, and rid you, I trust, of his
presence."

The banker, who spoke in a very hurried and even impatient voice, waited
for no reply, but took his way to Alice's house. Alice herself did not
follow, but remained in the very place where she was left, till joined
by her servant, who then conducted her to the rich man's residence...
But Alice's mind had not recovered its shock, and her thoughts wandered
alarmingly.

CHAPTER VII.

"_Miramont._--Do they chafe roundly?
_Andrew._--As they were rubbed with soap, sir,
And now they swear aloud, now calm again
Like a ring of bells, whose sound the wind still utters,
And then they sit in council what to do,
And then they jar again what shall be done?"
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

OH! what a picture of human nature it was when the banker and the
vagabond sat together in that little drawing-room, facing each
other,--one in the armchair, one on the sofa! Darvil was still employed
on some cold meat, and was making wry faces at the very indifferent
brandy which he had frightened the formal old servant into buying at
the nearest public-house; and opposite sat the respectable--highly
respectable man of forms and