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tioned hi daily visi with my a year, ppmesg In the midst of am the estranigement the dog sickened. There was a. week of misgivmlg om Alice's part, when she sat beside him with her books, or writing 31111 the timeâ€"there was a. day when both books and manuscript were put away, amd she was bending over him, with tears faildirng fast, as she tried to hush his moans, and Looked into his fast, gf'nzm eyesâ€"and there was an hour of sti 55, when She lay on the low couoh, with her arm around his neck, neither speaking nor stirringu And when the poor creature's last breath was'drawi‘n, she bent over him with a. passionate burst of grief, kissed the white spot upon his forehead, and closed the soft, dark eyes that. even in death aver: turned towards her wiLh a loving no . 1155“: in UK mg m the Fe She slug "Do I tease you, Francis 2" "Very much." She gave a little sighâ€"so faint that I could scarcely hear itâ€"and left the room. I had scared her gaiety away for that morning. T5 This was the first cloud in our sky. It seems strange, now, when I look back upon it after the lapse of years, how perseveri-nglry I llabored to destroy the foumdaticm of peace and happiness on which I might have built my life. The remaining six months of that year were months of misery to me, and, I doubt nohto Alice, for she grew thin and pale. and lost her gaietyJ I had succeeded only too well in my plan. and she had learned to doubt my affection for her. I felrt this by the Look in her eyes now and then, and by the way in which she seemed to ellivmg to her dog, as if his fidelity and how were now her only hope. But I was too proud to own mysehf im the wrong, and the breach wi_den§d day» by day». She dropped her pen, only too glad of an excuse to talk to me, and came and leaned over my chair. "Ami why? when I love some one." This was a. bad beginning of the les- son. I wanted to teach her. and I turn- ed over my papers in silence. I “Do I annoy you, Francis?" "Not much." L Her light hand was playing \Vlth my hair. and ‘hflr breath was warm on my cheek. I felt my wisdom vanishing. and tried to make up for its loss by an increased coldness of manner. "One kiss," she said, "Just (me, and I'livgo away." " hat nonsense, Alice. \Vhat Lima have I to think of kisses now '3” She stood” up and lrooke’dr me in the face. If, for a time, she had charmed me out of my graver seLf, I resolved to be charmed no more. I devoted myself again to my business. heart and soul, and sat poring for hours over law papers without speaking to her. Yet she did not complain. So long as she was certain that I Loved her, she was content, and took up her pen agam, and went on with the work our mar- riage had interrupted. Her writmg- desk was in my study, by a window just opposite mine; and somehmes I would cease to hear the rapid movement of her pen, and, looking up. I woqld find her eyes fixed upon my face, whlle a. happy smile was playing mound her lips. One day the glance found me m a most unreasonable mood. The sense of hen- love half pained me, and I said oufgly: _ A l _ ' "It'is bad taste. Alice, to look at any ong‘in ihat w_ay." She loved me. Every chord of her most sensitive heart thrilled and trem- bled to my touch. and gave forth sweet- est music; yet I was not satisfied. I tried the minor key. Throth her deep affection for me I wounded her cruelfly. I can see it now. Some wise idea found its way into my head and whispered that I was making a child of my wife by my indulgent ways, and that her charac- ter would never develop its strength in so much sunshine. I acted upon that thought, forgetting how she had a1,- roady been tried in the fiery furnace of affliction; and, quite unconscious, that while she was getting back all the innocent gaiety of her childish years. the deep lessons of her womanhood were still lying beneath the sparkling surface of her playful ways. She did not w And I am sure she was in earnest. I pleased her best when I treated her most like a. child. She was no angelâ€" ». passionate, highâ€"spirited creature. She rebelled a thousand times a. day, al- though she delighted if) my comm]. But it was pretty to see her, when she turn- ed to leave the room. with fire in her eyes, and a deep flush on her cheekâ€" it was pretty to see her with her hand upon the look even, drop her proud head submissively, and wait when I saidâ€" “Stop. Shut the door and listen to me.’ Yet it was dangerous. I. who had never been loved before. what could I do but become a tyrant. when a. creature so noble as this bent down before me! “I only wanted to find my master, Francis," she used to say, when I laugh- ed at her about it. "I was looking for him through all those long years. and I began to think he would' never come. But, from the first moment when I heard you speak, and met your eyes, I felt that he was near me. And I am glad to weaur my master's chains,” she added, kissing my hand. LOST ALECE CHAPTER III. We were married not long after, and for six months we dwelt in a. "Fool’s Paradise." When I think. that but for me, it might have lasted to our dying day, I can only sigh, and take up the burden of my life with an aching heart. They had 'caued Alice fickleâ€"oh, how wromglyl No human being could be truer to another man than she was to W grave fiich had come to study all ruary fa I‘OVS'ID evefnm one 111011] sympgt ver him, tried to his fast, an hour the low 1L5 neck, {.v And breath looking menâ€" I her 11d "Yes... . She placed the fragments one upo the other and looked at me. "It can be mended, but the accident must leave its trace, like all others. 011, Francis!" she added, throwing her- self down by my chair. and lifting my hand to her lips. "Why do you try me so?! Do you realfl-y love me 2" ‘ I ‘ elt‘ afiger" 'ahd' ‘ 51355550} iâ€"fimiriy heart nothing else. Was she threat- an_1_ggrme? 7 must leave its trace, like all others. "TOOK Me Too late, Frank!” 011, Francis!" she added, throwing her- "Will you never forgive me 7" self down by my chair. and lifting my “Ear-give? Do you think I have one hand to her lips. "Why do you try me unkind thought or feeling towards you, so?! Do you realfl-y love me 2" Frank? Ah, no! But I am philled "Alice," I said, impatiently “do get Zthrough and through. My loye is dead up. You tire me." ,2Lnd buried. Stand away from its grave, She rose and turned very pale. land let us meet the world as best we "I vyill go then. But first answer my may." qlgesliop. Do you lovq me, Francis ?" I leaned my 318641 99011 my 1121113153114 The next moment she threw the toy (a. pretty little bronze inkstand made like a Cupid, with his quiver full of pens) at my feet and turned away.griev- ed and angry.l I stooped to pick up the figureâ€"it was brokan in two. 7"Upon my word, Alice you are the most unreasonable of beings. However, tge little god of love. can be easily men-d- e ." "Ohv you canr chndeéééad_ {6‘ lift it flrom the ground!" she said sarcastical- Y; "There was a. salnt In Old time " I said, quietly going on with my pains, "a namesake of mine, by the wayâ€"â€" â€"-Saint Francis of Salesâ€"who was ac- customed to say, Uha_t (me should never ask 0r"I_‘efESO @pythlpg.”__ VrrJ - “I shall not refuse whatever you choose to give me. Only don't delay me long, for I want to go on with these pagprs." V r . "Well! But I’m not talking to Saint Francis; Iam talking to you. Will you have my little gift? Say yesâ€"just to please naeâ€"just to make my happy day still happler.” "Don't lbe a. child. Alice." "It is childish. I know; but indulge me this once. It is such a little thing 3,1111r it_w‘i_1'1 make _me very happy." Wild any one believe? My wife had scarcely left me five moments before the fancy came to me that I had shown too plainly the power she had over Um. For months I had been schoobinxg to) self in- to coldness and indifference, and at her very first warm kiss or smile, I was completely routed. She had vexed,and thwarted and annoyed me much dur- ing those months; it wouid not do to pardon her so fulfly and entirely .be- for she had even asked my forgive- ness. I took a sudden resolution; and when she came back into the room was buried in my papers once more. Poor chiId! She had had one half-hour's sun- shine at last. . - "One moment," she said, taking the pen out of my hand, and holding some- thing over my head. "I have a birth- day gift for you. Do you want it B" "If you give it to me certainly." "Than ask me for it." I said mowing, but took to my pen again. iHer countenance fell a little. IW'Wou‘ld you like its" shé'sa’idft’i'ifiid- yz ”And we will make a new beginning from this day, Francis." "If you will, my child.” I She caressed me again, after a queer, little fashion of her own,. which always made me smile. and which consisted of a. series of kisses bestowed s stematicâ€" ade 911 different parts of my aceâ€"four, I believe, being allotted to my (one- head, two to each cheek, two the chin, four to my lips, amd four to my eyes. She went through this ceremony with a painstaking care and then looked me In the face. All her love and tender- ness seemed to come up before me in that moment mnd effect the past and Its unhappiness. I held her closely to my heart and her arms were around my neck- She bent over me as she spoke, amd llezminlg .her hand lightly on my shoulâ€" der, kissed me twice.. She had been chary of her caresses, for some time; amd, when she did this of her own acâ€" cord, I Wheeled roulfld in my chair, and booked up 3.1; bar. - "You seem very happy, to-day,A11ice." "It is somebod ’5 birthday," she said, stationing herself upon‘ my knee and looking into my eyes/s "And I wish somebody very many happy returns" â€"-her voice faltered a. littleâ€""and it there has been any wrong feeling, Francis for the last six months, we will bu_r_y Rio-day, nnw_am1d_forever."_ She clmmg to me in silence, and hid per face upon my breast. I was moved, m spite of myself, and kissed the brown hair that was scattered over my shoulâ€" der, and said I was quite willing to for- get everything (as if I had anything to forget) It At which she looked up with a bright smile. and I daresay thought mg_ve_ry maggzm'unous. _ _ "I have been in the conservatory, and have brought you the first flowers of the season, Francis. And something else, which, perhaps you may not hike so welll.” FreQ's death, and 1 mm to hsten. “But hearing through the hat}, I took and affected to be very It was a warm, bright, and she seemed to bring a light gm} hgppinesg with It was a warm, bright, beautiful. day, and she seemed to bring a. burst of sun- light and happiness with her when she opened the door. Her own face, too,wa.s radiant, and she looked like the Alice of the ohd farm-house as she came on tip- toe ang bep‘t oyeg {ny ghaiy. “She held a. pretty little bouquet of violets, tied with wine ribbons, before me. A‘I- 'Wehl, what is it ?"V I asked, looking! C HA PTER IV up, knifeafvik iva-vl‘iké pang that I 1' closed behmd her. the JS and grew re continent by tlhe doc some ally “You?” she exclaimed suddenly. "‘You; who a year ago, sowed the seed which ‘has borne this fruit, can you weep over your husbandry now’l Don't Frank! Take what I can give youâ€"take my earnest friendshipâ€"and God grant we may never part, here or in heaven." "A11! in heaven-if we ever get there .â€"-you will love me again." She quoted those sad words which goor St. Pierre uttered on his dying ed: "‘I am gflad to Shear it,” she said bur- rxedlly. "Heaven only knows what days and nights were mine at first. For my life had been wrapped up in yours, Frank. and it was terrible to separate them. I thought at first I could not live. I suppose every one thinks so, when a. heavy bklow falls. But strength was given me, and by-andâ€"by peace. We seem like two grey shadows, Frank, in a. s‘ulent world and we must only wait God's time; and hope that, "Heaven knows, (Tear Alice, that as I loved you when we first met, I loved you 011 that unhappy day, and love you still 1” 011 I this meme (What would an isolated soul do, en in Heavan itself I) . aqulaid be; hand gently pn mlne I leaned my head upon my hands,a.nd my tears fell, and l was not ashamed of them. But they seemed to rouse her into a. kind of frenzy. .I rose from my seat and stood ne- Side her, but she draw back and shook her head. "Frank, don't ask me for that." "1 shah] know how to value it now, A’lice." “That may be; but. I have it not. to "Too late. To ohate, Frank!” 1 clasped her to my heart. The pas- sion in that heart might almost have brought back 'life to the dead; but she did not move. She was like a. statue in my arms, and only looked. at me and sighed. "Vbe cannot the aimldays come back again. If I made a. terrible mistakexan you never forgive it? 1 (thought it was foolish {or us to love each other as we did â€"at least to shmv it. as we didâ€" earnh's only true wisdom." She smiled sadly. "Give me back [that love, Alice,which I would not have. Oh, give me back the lost sunshine." "I “Know vit.” mAnd she sighed and logiggd drearin at me. “Nixâ€"£60 11'1sz ELLE ’t’o’ you," she said. "Alice, how long are we to live this life 2” She changed coflor. "What life, Framk '3” , "The one we are livipg now. It x5 not the happy, loving llfe we used to live. You are not mine as entirely and loyipgly as you once weye.”_ _ "Are you busy 2” I asked, as she laid dog‘ng her pen and loqked aroqu. ‘ I was like one in a dream all through the day; and, when we came home 1 could not wake. I had made many changes in the house. and all for her. I took her through the rooms on the day after our return, and showed her the improvements. (She was pleased wibh the furniture; she admired the pictures and the conservatory; and seemed delighted with the little gem of a boudoir which I had pleased my- self by designing expressly for her. She thanked me, too. No longer ago than a year she would have danced through the rooms. uttering a. thousand pretty lgttle exclamations of wonder and de- light. and I should have been smother- ed with kisses. and called "a dear old bear," or some such fit name at the end; all of which would have been very srl_ly,_but also very delightful.” I think I bore it for a month; but one morning, as I sat at my solitary breakfastâ€"for Aflfice took tihat meal in her room nowâ€"the bitter sense of wrong and unhappiness and desertion came over me so strongly that Iwent up to her room. Her eyes met mine, but tlhelr old Light was quite gone. "Not in the least ill, Frank," she said quietly. "But you must remember I have not seen you for nine months and yo}1_ startled m9 :3. pttlg." My household fairy had fled. and I comm only mourn that I should never Book upon .her sweet young face again. It was another Anise, this. I had slain my own Alice, and nothing could re- animate Lher. I fofllowed him more nervous than I had ever been before in my life. War- rener grasped my hands as I opened the door, and Mrs. Warrenerâ€"blless her king Menuâ€"burg on? prying. . At last she returned. I came home tlred enough one evening, to find a. letter lying on my table, informing me that she womld cross to Dover on the morrow. I went down to Dover 10 meet her. Our estrmnvgement had worn deep into m hears. She had loved me once; s e should love me again? Next moment she entered. a little King Charles' spaniel {risking about her feet. I had her in my arms at once, but it, was not until she kissed me that I knew how cold gpgl gale shfs yva‘sa "Avlice, are you 1119" ‘I asked, holding filer away from me, and looking into her ace. “0h:me dear Framkw I 3511 so glad to see you. And we have brought you yqqr Alice .home 59 well.” I was won) haggard! I took a bath and made a. carefml toilet after my [hur- ried journey. As I was taking my last look in the glass, the hotel-waiter cap“; to t,evll_me they had arrivgd. friends of ours, one Mr. and Mr rener, with a. young daughter going to Italy for six months, was arranged that Alfice should payy them. They remained abroad nine months instead of six. People wondered and 'oked about my wife’s deserting me; ut I only laughed. and said, I should soon go after her it she remained away much longer; and they thought we were still a model couple. But had they seen me sitting in my office. at night, over Alice’s letters from abroad, they would have known what a gulif had opened between us two. over and over again, with aching throbs going through and through my heart, at every word. They were full of incid- ent and interest, and people called them beautiful, who had not seen the mix- ture of womanly passion and childlike playfulness in her character that I had seen, and which I was to see no more. At last she returrneda I came home tired enough one evening, to find a 1 were, and sadder, too, dear Frank," she :said with a smile. "Yet who knows? l It may be that all the love has not left us yet.” And thus that chapter of our life is ended. We have never touched upon the sub- ject since; but I have waited calmly for years, and the same quiet light shines always in the eyes of Alice; the I read those letters same deep, sari tones thrills my heart when I hear her speaking or singing. JAn angel could scarcely be gentler. or vkinder than she who was once so Im- petuous and full of fire. She was un- reasonable and exacting and ardent and imperious in those days, I know, and my slower nature was always on the strain to keep pace with hers; but,what a bright, joylous, happy creature she a was Quz; terait une ame listak wib’h aching throbs through my heart, V were full of incid- lated soul do, ev- isolee dans le cie] 13’ d and we must and hope that, grave at least; y be set right. and IL accom- The maxfslfrugged his shoul‘ patiently. _"Wot’s the ‘gooqfluv “my, eh? fer rin’ ole lunetiE. \Vot’s t1 ter anybody? He orter bu The light that had lighted them died out of her eyes, the color which had come into her cheeks forsook them. her mouth grew hard, and her twee lost at once its youth and animation. The man continued to_ stare into var cancy and waflk mechanlcally after his barrow. "1 can't. do ut. Joe. I can't do ut. I ain’t got no refit these 'two nightsâ€"but I can‘t do ut.” The words came with difficulty, and the ous'l y “W'y y'a'm'l on’y one ‘molly‘ Ieft.‘ “P‘raps I been glvin’ 'em away." The tone was unmistak‘ulgiy surly. For the next thirty yards they walk- ed ou in silence, the girl watching the man furtively, the 1mm pushing the barrow Ianguidly, and staring strenuâ€" ous'ly at nothmg. “Ha’ yer thort on he said, presently, ah off the pavement to with a_p5ufve_1 bqy._ From afar she could distinguish his barrow among the throng of vehicles which filled the thoroughfare. \then he had "doubled" the corner and got into the comparative “slack water” of the churchyar (1 she crossed over and joined him. A nod that was almost imperceptible, answered by a smile that was bright and sunny, was all the re- cognition that passed between them. The girl's glance wandered involun- tarily to the barrow. It was the sea- son for cherries. and she noticed the long array of empty baskets. "Been ’avin’ a good day, Joe, ain’t yer He always contrived to be in Cheap- side between six and halfâ€"past. It was their custom to walk together down Queen Victoria street to Blackfriars Bridge. At this point they separated â€"â€"she crossing to the Surrey side, he taking a. "turn" through Fleet street and the Strand before following in the same direction. They had commenced the practice in midwinter. and now they had reached midsummer. nan. 1n ;1 L From ten to six she plied her wares diligently, pushing the sale with all the tact which a. life's experience had taught her and all the wiles which a woman's wit could suggest. But each evening when the weary city was fast emptying. and the bells of the great cathedral was still echoing overhead, her eyes woul dsweep the long length of crowded asphalt with searching glances; and as she scanned the teem- ing multitudes pouring westward a Spot of crimson would suddenly'show in the wan, white cheeks. and the dark brown orm would flash and kindle with a. curâ€" ious. mystic light. She sold flowers in Cheapside. Her station was the steps of the Peel statue; and every morning. week in and week out. as the clocks of the city were striking ten she would deposit her basket at the foot of the column and prepare for the business of the day. It was her eyes and her bands which marked her off from the common herd. Had these been of regulation pattern. there was nothing to distinguiqh her from any dozen of her companions. But her eyes, which were brown in color. were large and lustrous. and had’ a provoking habit of drooping the lashes when she looked at one. Whether cal- culated coquetry or native-born man- was "fetching" few men would have puzzled an expert to decide. That it was "fetching" f9 wmen would have ventured to deny. Her hand. small and well-shaped, boasted the taper fin- gers and filbert nails generally as- sociated with birth and breedLng. It would have been different, but for me. 0 you, who read this little tale, remember in time that a kind word and a loving look cost little, although they do such great work; and that there is no wrong so deep as wrong done to a loving heart. (The End.) LOVE AMONG THE LOWLY (An Incident of London Street Life.) She was a. thin slip of a girl. with pale, sallow cheeks. and a. figure as fragile as the flowers she carried in her basket. Behave me. 1 am [happy in you, Frankâ€"[happy in think same roof shelters us, and t n9§__part tillene of 7115 die said with a. smile. It may be that all us yet." He ’5 111‘ roacihft Father Middlin’ like W'v v'a'Ln'I im, digin eyâ€"drmL :‘orn‘ life an m’ talk'm gene‘iman words came with difficulty, ant uice palpitated with emotion. man shrugged his shoulders im M] lin‘t he father ,13'- _ , km I! am mappyjybeing w‘i bk lfl‘ wed touched upon the sub- hnve waited calmly the same quiet light the eyes of Alice; the ones thrills my heart speaking or singing. marcer be gentler or who was once so im- of fire. She was un- :acting and ardent and se days, I know, and e was always on the on wot I tole yer ’9" as the girl stepped to avoid collision l he‘s mmy of us di and wis‘ ldiJe art HJe's dun a. lot she murmured. ), eh? A (1031'â€" he use uv 'Im en dead years rot more ing tEat the hat we shall ‘ over and as almost smile that all the re- his} the. ‘bout tlhan we )l'( 11 beaches and bluffs on upon the whole, the l feet of the ordinary : or sweeping along, a to inâ€"drivin‘g winds though being distril parative‘ly lung inter [11101.5 less attention. Astonishing effects are produced by storm billows te beaches and bluffs on the se; unon the whole. the steady ‘ tended on the bed. -. “Joe!” she moaned; "Joe, 1ad,, ye’ve get yer wish. The ole man’ll never rile yer any more. I love yer mate, dearer than life; but it’s th'm.words o’your'm as 1 shall heal, an‘ not parson’s, on the day yer takes me inter church.” "She thinks a bdoomin' sight {too much, She do, 0’ that drunken ole _s<:amp. her father!" he growled, star- lng after the retreating firgure; "but I ain't all a. fool, mate. Grit’s wuth In the third pair back of a. tenement house in Lambeth a girl was kneeling by_ the side of a bed. A paper bag was lying on the Coverlet, and some chen- ries had fallen on the floor. On the bed lay the body of a man. The room reeked with the fumes of whiskey The long, lithe fingers of the girl's right hand were clasped convulsively around thv hand act the motionless figure ex- tended on the bed. . "‘Y'ain’t a bad sort Joe." said the girl. .turn'mg her swimming eyes full on hlm; "but yer a. bit down on the ode man.” _He gave the barrow aln unnecessarily vxgorous shove. ~"‘I'm goin’ inter the 'Cut.’ 'Liza, ter fmls_h. No. I ain’t dun so dusty”â€"anso “'eerg the question the girl had put to ham half an hour before. “I started out wiv a. dozen, an’ this yere's th‘ on’y one lef‘." He emptied the contents of the basket or) the board. “I shall knock ’em in the "Cut' at freppence. ’Tainfft orieu they see cherries like them in New Cut. They’re city fruit, they are. "I'll look 'roun’ arler I clear out." _ As he walked away his eyes followed her “I wish he may die. I wish be war dead!" he muttered, fiercely. 1 "01.1.. Joe! Joe, if yer Love me, say thm words!" e-ntreated the gp‘l. ‘ 'I say ’em cm; I loves yer; cos It's. It‘s on’y 'im wot's keepin' yer frum a. man as wants ter make a 'appy wo- man uv yer. I says 'em cos I means 'em; No 'fense bet 5er. 'Liza..” ' It was'a'éthdJS' ‘t‘ié‘ii'c’tfii‘bfi‘fli gxplanation was probably to be foun 1:1} the despairing utterance of the wo- The man’s countenance had suddeply darkened, sparks from the nether fq‘es danced in his eyes. the old hard. vm- dictjve look had returned. BuL silence was too oppressive and. stifling. Near \Vaterloo station the man spoke again. "How much yer Luk, ‘Liza 2" The question was abrupt, but the tone was. friendly. It mdicabed a change of feeling. "Saving an’ three." He extended his hand. She put the m013§y into it _wit1mut_ a word. "Méet me at the Garding' in the morn- in’, ’Liza, and I'll stock the baskit for yea." said he, returning ber_nme_pe1}ge. man "He’s ’ad 'em awfufl bad agen, Jae. Lag-‘5 night it wur that dreadfuIâ€"â€"" She stBfipeé’ Mailedâ€"6’5? tfié‘éfiifli .tha‘t Bvas sweepmg up over bier compamon's row. "A pretty fool yer made 0' me now. ain't yer? I giv' up booze an' out tom- mies w'en tux up wiv you, ’Liza; but you'd see me at blazes suner 'an’ giv up that drucken ole wagzibone wot lives on yer. an’ perwents yer havin' a. man as au’d be good to er." "It ’u’d break me heart, 06, ter 'ave. ’Lm die in the workus." “Yer thinks a bloomin’ sight more in a wrong un than yer does uv a. right said the man savagely. ' She gave him a Look which must hava convinced him of his error; but blinded by Â¥Q§S§ionk he refusqd be see. ~"Well," he snarled, "ornéflof uz"aa got ter scootâ€"him or me. There am't’ room fer two." The girl made no reply, and they went on. "I’m sorry for yer Joe; but if it's hard on you it's rough on me. Anythin' as you ars'd me Lu do, Joeâ€"anythin' as I c’o’d do 0’ meself likeâ€"I'd do ut. mate, without sayin' why or wherefore. But Sen' the ole man to the workus â€"â€"I can't do that. lad. I know yer think Itorter; but I can't Joeâ€"I can't do u the lie leaped out of his eyes. 1 ‘l‘hey passed under the railway bridge which spans the lower end of Queen Victoria. street and reached the point where they usually parted. The girl stopped, but the‘man went on. V "Aren't yer gom’ to sell out. Joe?" she queried, timldly, as he turned in the direction of he river. "Wot for 2” The tone and the manner puzzled her more than the words. For the. moment they stood con< fronting each other, the face of the man working couvulsively, and the glr‘ljs feapuresncpntracted with â€" Blackfriars Bridge was crosrsvedr Effi- lence. Turning inLo Stamford street shg'yvhlspered _hoarsely i streets "P’raps he ain’t as good as he might be. But there’s wuss about, an‘â€"â€" be warn't allays so, Joe.” “Oh, if you likes to put up wiv 'im. 'Liza. so do. ’Tain't no concern 0' min» â€"â€"is it ?" he added. moodily. "I can’t sen’ ‘im to the workus, Joe." "But yer can sen' me to the devil l” be snapped sharply; amd an ugly look leaped out of his eyes. 1 'J‘hey paSSed under the railway bridire an e roar of the great Babylon was in eir ears; but not Strephon and lloris in the sweet'seclusion of idyl- : lanes (:0qu have been more oblivioqs the passing moment than this pa-lr city lovers in Lhe ht oand crowded \VORN BY THE SE ll likes ’Ta'm' added. ’ ‘im 1 to protec willows tearing away a) the seacoast. But, steady wearing ef- seaâ€"waves striking, at shore-line exposed is even greatermâ€" -, to put up wiv 'i_m. 't no concern 0' mum . moodily. to the workus, Joe." 1' me to the devil l" r; amd an ugly look Juted over a. com- 'val of time, it at- Some statistics how that on the hat on the tween Flam- Head, along 5, the beach he onslaught 37 years. at sometime 'a.y bridge at Quepn t9? pom? was in on and of idyl- ’bliviOus