d actually won the Derby stakes! Too late! save
for his creditors and those he had defrauded. Still, doubtless, one more
bitter drop in the cup of his despair, wherever he might chance to be
drinking it.

All that he had left behind him was sold, hunters inclusive, and this
Magnificent alone, particularly after the Derby, yielded a princely
fortune. Too late, either for further crimes, or poor Netta's hoped-for
reformation.

It was hard work for Rowland to go through his heavy parochial duties
with this great misfortune hanging over his head. But if the sympathy
and kindness of friends could help him in his work, and support him
under the pressure of anxiety, he was helped and supported. Still it was
evident to all that he fled from society, and in spite of the delicate
tact of the Joneses and Freda, he had scarcely been near them since that
first day. Whether it was pride or susceptibility, he could scarcely
tell himself, but he could not bring himself to thrust his sorrow and
those of his family upon others. He caused every possible search to be
made, through the police and otherwise for Netta, but in vain.

But Providence answered his prayers, when his own efforts seemed
fruitless, and that through the instrumentality of one of the poor
children, for whose benefit he had exerted such talents as God had given
him.

Some four years before, a miserable girl of eleven years old had become
one of his ragged school children. I say _his_, because even his rector
allowed him the merit of establishing the school. Through this child,
Rowland became acquainted with her mother, a wretched, starving widow,
living in squalor and iniquity. Miss Gwynne had helped her temporally,
Rowland spiritually, and when she had died, about a year ago, he had
strong hopes that much suffering had brought forth a sincere repentance.

Her little girl was one of the many examples of the blessed effects of a
ragged school. At her mother's death she was fifteen years old,
teachable and anxious to be taught. Rowland prevailed on a respectable
woman, the lodging-house keeper, in whose house Netta had found a
refuge, to try her as a servant, and she had turned out well.

So it was that this girl, having an idea that Rowland could effect
wonders, waited for him one Sunday evening after service, and asked if
she might speak with him. She told him, with a long preface of
apologies, that she did not know if she was right in saying what she was
going t