, and down at the flower-bordered
ground; then at the bill-board, and the loaded tables of that marvelous
establishment. There was still so much to see! And, oh, how many scores
of questions to ask!

He bent until his beard swept the sauce-box. "You'll just have to keep
out of their _clutches_," he declared.

Again she nodded, twisting and untwisting her fingers. "I thought maybe
they didn't come here."

"Come?" he grunted. "Won't they be hunting _you?_ Well, keep out of
their clutches, I say. That's absolutely necessary. You'll see why--if
you let 'em get you! For--how'll you ever find your father?"

"_Oh!_" A sudden flush swept her face. She looked at the ground. She had
forgotten Miss Royle and Thomas and Jane. Worse! Until that moment _she
had forgotten her father and mother!_

"There's that harness of his," went on the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. He
thought a moment, pursing his lips and twiddling his thumbs. "We'll have
to consider how we can get rid of it."

She glanced up. "Where does he come?" she asked huskily; "my fath-er?"

"Um! Yes, where?" He seemed uneasy; scratched his jaw; and rearranged a
row of chins. "Well, the fact is, he comes here to--er--buy candles that
burn at both ends."

"Of course. Is it far?"

"Out in a new fashionable addition--yes, addition, subtraction,
multiplication."

"_You_ won't mind showing me the way?" Now her face grew pale with
earnestness.

He smiled sadly. "I? Your father thinks poorly of me. He's driven me off
the block once or twice, you know. Though"--he looked away
thoughtfully--"when you come to think of it there isn't such a lot of
difference between your father and me. He makes money: I make faces."

It was one of those unpleasant moments when there seemed very little to
be said. She stood on the other foot.

He began polishing once more. "Then there's that bee," he resumed--

"Moth-er."

He went on as quickly as possible. "Of course there are lots of things
worse than one of those so-cial hon-ey-gath-er-ing in-sects--"

"She sees nothing else! She _hears_ nothing else!"

"Um! We'll help her get rid of it!--_if!_"

"If?"

"You've got a lot to overcome. Recollect the Policeman?"

She retreated a step.

"Just suppose we meet _him!_ And the Bear that--"

"My!"

"Yes. And a certain Doctor."

"Oh, _dear!_"

"Bad! Pretty bad!"

"Where does my moth-er come?"--timidly.

The question embarrassed. "Er--the place is full of carriage-lamps," he
began;