in the
neighborhood of the Strand, and at no great distance from the station.

Then, having stood bareheaded until the cab turned out into the traffic
stream of that busy thoroughfare, the first traveler, whose baggage
consisted of a large suitcase, hailed a second cab and drove to the
Hotel Astoria--the usual objective of Americans.

Taking leave of him for the moment, let us follow the lady.

Her arrangements were very soon made at the hotel, and having removed
some of the travel-stains from her person and partaken of one cup of
China tea, respecting the quality whereof she delivered herself of some
caustic comments, she walked down into the Strand and mounted to the top
of a Victoria bound 'bus.

That she was not intimately acquainted with London, was a fact readily
observable by her fellow passengers; for as the 'bus went rolling
westward, from the large pocket of her Norfolk jacket she took out a
guide-book provided with numerous maps, and began composedly to consult
its complexities.

When the conductor came to collect her fare, she had made up her mind,
and was replacing the guidebook in her pocket.

"Put me down by the Storis, Victoria Street, conductor," she directed,
and handed him a penny--the correct fare.

It chanced that at about the time, within a minute or so, of the
American lady's leaving the hotel, and just as red rays, the harbingers
of dusk, came creeping in at the latticed widow of her cozy work-room,
Helen Cumberly laid down her pen with a sigh. She stood up, mechanically
rearranging her hair as she did so, and crossed the corridor to her
bedroom, the window whereof overlooked the Square.

She peered down into the central garden. A common-looking man sat upon
a bench, apparently watching the labors of the gardener, which consisted
at the moment of the spiking of scraps of paper which disfigured the
green carpet of the lawn.

Helen returned to her writing-table and reseated herself. Kindly
twilight veiled her, and a chatty sparrow who perched upon the
window-ledge pretended that he had not noticed two tears which trembled,
quivering, upon the girl's lashes. Almost unconsciously, for it was an
established custom, she sprinkled crumbs from the tea-tray beside her
upon the ledge, whilst the tears dropped upon a written page and two
more appeared in turn upon her lashes.

The sparrow supped enthusiastically, being joined in his repast by two
talkative companions. As the last fragments dropp