on, and the face with
nothing distinguished in its pallor, under its red beard and
moustache?--"a little foxy-headed fellow," any sharp-tongued bystander
might have called him. It was a well-known face where all the others
were drearily unknown, a Redcross face in London, the face of a man who
might have shown himself an enemy, yet had proved a friend in need; and
though there had been presented to the girls the bearing of a Jupiter
and the lineaments of an Adonis, they could not have hailed him with
greater gladness. If anybody hung back in the general acclamation it was
Dora, for Annie did not say a word to rebuke May; she was too anxious to
hear the last news of her father.

More than one man among the passers-by, glancing at Tom Robinson
surrounded by a group of pretty girls, the two prettiest evidently
making much of him and hanging on his words, called him in their minds
"lucky dog," and speculated on the nature of the attraction.

"'_Prope'ty, prope'ty, prope'ty_,'" no doubt. It was disgraceful to see
how mercenary even quite young women were getting.

Tom received the ovation, at which, by the bye, he was a little taken
aback and puzzled, quietly and in a matter-of-fact way, as he received
most things. He had had the pleasure of seeing Dr. and Mrs. Millar
lately; indeed, he had availed himself of the privileges of an old
friend to call on them at once in their new quarters, he told Annie, and
he had found them, by their own account, fairly well and comfortable,
though the Doctor was still dead lame.

Tom did not tell either Annie, or any one else interested in the
information, that he had spent the last few days pushing the circulation
of a subscription list, which he had headed with the promise of a
handsome sum. It was to provide a testimonial not altogether inadequate
to mark the esteem in which the townspeople held their old Doctor for
his many virtues, and their sympathy with him in his misfortunes. A
liberal offering on the town's part might do something to relieve the
adversity which had befallen a fellow-townsman. The talk a little time
ago had been of presenting Dr. Millar with a new brougham and horse,
which, as they would have had to be maintained at the charge of a man
who had just put down his old brougham as beyond his diminished income,
was rather an illogical method of serving him. However, his complete
breakdown, with the sale of his practice, had at once knocked that idea
on the head, and h