eturned Katherine, with a vague idea that she ought not
perhaps to walk with him, yet by no means inclined to dismiss a pleasant
companion.

"I fancy your young nephew is a somewhat rebellious subject."

"He is sometimes very troublesome, but you cannot help liking him."

"Exactly--a fine boy. What bewildering little animals children are! They
ought to teach us humility, they understand us so much better than we
understand them."

"I believe they do, but I never thought of it before. Have you little
brothers and sisters who have taught you this?"

"No. I am the youngest of my family; but I am interested in a refuge for
street children, and I learn much there."

"That is very good of you," said Katherine, looking earnestly at him.
"Where is it--near this?"

"No; a long way off. There are plenty of such places in every direction.
I have just come from a home for poor old women, childless widows,
sickly spinsters, who cannot work, and have no one to work for them. If
you have any spare time, it would be a great kindness to go and read to
them now and then. The lees of such lives are often sad and tasteless."

"I should be glad to help in any way," said Katherine, coloring, "but
just now I belong (temporarily) to my uncle, who is old, and requires a
good deal of reading--and care."

"Ah, I see your work is cut out for you: that, of course, is your first
duty."

The conversation then flowed on easily about street arabs and the
various missions for rescuing them, about soldiers' homes, and other
kindred topics. Katherine was much interested, and taken out of herself;
she was quite sorry when on approaching Legrave Crescent she felt
obliged to pause, with the intention of dismissing him. He understood.
"Do you live near this?" he asked.

"Yes, quite near."

"May I bring you some papers giving you an account of my poor old
women?"

"I should like so much to have them," said Katherine. "But my uncle is
rather peculiar. He does not like to be disturbed; he does not like
visitors; he was vexed because my sister-in-law and the children came
to-day."

"I understand, and will not intrude. But should you be able and willing
to help these undertakings, Colonel Ormonde will always know my address.
He honors me still with his friendship, though he thinks me a
moon-struck idiot."

"Because you are good. The folly is his," said Katherine, warmly. Then
she bowed, Mr. Payne lifted his hat again, and they parted, not to me