to God I never had! I can sew better than most, and I can
work a type-machine. That's what I used to do before he came. But
type-writing work isn't so easy to get as it was, and I am out of
practice."

It occurred to him for a moment to ask the girl whether she could
remember sitting for Mr. Lightmark, but he felt that Dick might
resent the introduction of his name; and, remembering that she had
told him that, for a time, before her health gave way, her artist
patrons had been numerous, he dismissed the idea as not likely to be
profitable.

As they spoke, she with her mournful eyes turned on Rainham's
sympathetic face, he absently following the movements of the child
as it laboriously raised a small edifice of gravel-stones on the
seat between them, neither of them noticed the severely correct
figure in the frock-coat and immaculate hat who passed close behind
with observant eyeglass fixed upon the little group, and with an air
which, after the first flush of open-mouthed surprise, was
eloquently expressive of regretful indignation and the highest
motives.

Charles Sylvester continued his walk for a distance of about fifty
paces, and then seated himself in a position to command a view of
the persons in whom he was interested.

"I don't like watching Rainham like this," he said to himself; "but
it's a duty which I owe to society."

That the man was Rainham was as obvious as that the woman he was
talking to was of a far lower rank in life than his own. And then
there was the child!

"By Jove!" said Sylvester sententiously, "it's worse than I thought.
People really ought to be warned. I suppose it's that girl he was
talking about at the studio the other day; and he tried to shift her
on to Lightmark. What a hypocrite the man must be!"

He was not, however, for long called upon to maintain, in the
interests of society, his position of espionage; for Rainham, warned
of the lapse of time by the clock which adorns the Park lodge,
presently became aware that, if he was to fulfil his intention of
calling on Mrs. Sylvester, he had no time to spare; and when he rose
from his seat Charles Sylvester thought it advisable to resume the
walk which his zeal had induced him to interrupt.

CHAPTER X

After all, he need not have hurried. Mrs. Sylvester was out, he was
told by the butler, who proceeded to suggest, with the freedom of an
old friend, that he should make his way upstairs and find Miss Eve.

"Yes, I think I