er take me away? Thank you. Goodnight." She
put her hands on his shoulders, with innocent familiarity, and lifted
herself to him on tiptoe, and kissed him as a sister might have kissed
him.

Long after Sally was asleep in her bed, Amelius sat by the library fire,
thinking.

The revival of the crushed feeling and fancy in the girl's nature,
so artlessly revealed in her sad little story of the stars that were
"company to her," not only touched and interested him, but clouded his
view of the future with doubts and anxieties which had never troubled
him until that moment. The mysterious influences under which the girl's
development was advancing were working morally and physically together.
Weeks might pass harmlessly, months might pass harmlessly--but the time
must come when the innocent relations between them would be beset
by peril. Unable, as yet, fully to realize these truths, Amelius
nevertheless felt them vaguely. His face was troubled, as he lit the
candle at last to go to his bed. "I don't see my way as clearly as I
could wish," he reflected. "How will it end?"

How indeed!

CHAPTER 4

At eight o'clock the next morning, Amelius was awakened by Toff. A
letter had arrived, marked "Immediate," and the messenger was waiting
for an answer.

The letter was from Mrs. Payson. She wrote briefly, and in formal terms.
After referring to the matron's fruitless visit to the cottage on the
previous night, Mrs. Payson proceeded in these words:--"I request you
will immediately let me know whether Sally has taken refuge with you,
and has passed the night under your roof. If I am right in believing
that she has done so, I have only to inform you that the doors of the
Home are henceforth closed to her, in conformity with our rules. If I am
wrong, it will be my painful duty to lose no time in placing the matter
in the hands of the police."

Amelius began his reply, acting on impulse as usual. He wrote,
vehemently remonstrating with Mrs. Payson on the unforgiving and
unchristian nature of the rules at the Home. Before he was halfway
through his composition, the person who had brought the letter sent a
message to say that he was expected back immediately, and that he hoped
Mr. Goldenheart would not get a poor man into trouble by keeping him
much longer. Checked in the full flow of his eloquence, Amelius angrily
tore up the unfinished remonstrance, and matched Mrs. Payson's briefly
business-like language by an answer in one