of parting with the children, and I fear the
dangers of London, especially for a girl like Miriam."

"I would take them, Giacomo, under my wing. Besides, as a dear friend
once observed to me, evil has no power over the pure soul. I feel it
myself; it cannot come near me; it dissolves, it departs. What is the
Borough to me with all its snares? I am in a different world."

Giacomo for some time refused; but Miriam was alternately so unpleasant
and so coaxing, that at last he consented. Poor Andrew had really no
will of his own in the affair. He was a gentle, docile creature whom
clockmaking suited, but he was pleased at the thought of the change,
and who could tell? he might rise to a position at his uncle's far
beyond anything which he could attain in Cowfold.

After some negotiation, therefore, Miriam and Andrew departed for
London, the salary being fixed at thirty-eight shillings a week. To
this Giacomo added twelve shillings a week--two pounds ten shillings
altogether. It was a happy day for both of them when they journeyed to
the end of Cowfold Lane, and waited for the coach; they were happier
still when they were mounted on the top, and were at last on the great
London road, and already on the line which, was in direct communication
with the great city. It was different altogether from the Cowfold
roads, and there was a metropolitan air about it. They continually met
coaches going away to York, Newcastle, and even to Edinburgh, and the
drivers mutely saluted by lifting their whips as they passed. Two
drivers had thus met for forty years, and had never spoken a single
word to one another. At last one died, and the other took his death so
much to heart that he sickened and died too. The inns were nothing
like the Cowfold inns. They were huge places, with stables like
barracks, and outside each of them were relays of beautiful horses
standing ready for the change. The scenery from Huntingdon to London
is not particularly attractive, but to Miriam and Andrew the Alps could
not have been more fascinating. They wondered that others did not
share their excitement, and Andrew thought that a coachman must be the
happiest of men.

At last they reached Barnet, the last stage, and immediately afterwards
they saw the line of the smoke-cloud which lay over the goal of all
their aspirations, the promised land in which nothing but golden
romance awaited them. Presently a waypost was passed, with the words
_To