the
girl's side. He seemed to be absent-minded, and for some hundred yards'
distance was silent; then he stopped of a sudden and looked down at his
companion.

'Why, Jane,' he said, 'you'll get your death, running about in weather
like this.' He touched her dress. 'I thought so; you're wet through.'

There followed an inarticulate growl, and immediately he stripped off
his short overcoat.

'Here, put this on, right over your head. Do as I tell you, child!'

He seemed impatient to-night. Wasn't he going to talk with her as
before? Jane felt her heart sinking. With her hunger for kind and
gentle words, she thought nothing of the character of the night, and
that Sidney Kirkwood might reasonably be anxious to get over the ground
as quickly as possible.

'How is Mrs. Hewett?' Sidney asked, when they were walking on again.
'Still poorly, eh? And the baby?'

Then he was again mute. Jane had something she wished to say to
him--wished very much indeed, yet she felt it would have been difficult
even if he had encouraged her. As he kept silence and walked so
quickly, speech on her part was utterly forbidden. Kirkwood, however,
suddenly remembered that his strides were disproportionate to the
child's steps. She was an odd figure thus disguised in his over-jacket;
he caught a glimpse of her face by a street lamp, and smiled, but with
a mixture of pain.

'Feel a bit warmer so?' he asked.

'Oh yes, sir.'

'Haven't you got a jacket, Jane?'

'It's all to pieces, sir. They're goin' to have it mended, I think.'

'They' was the word by which alone Jane ventured to indicate her aunt.

'Going to, eh? I think they'd better be quick about it.'

Ha! that was the old tone of kindness! How it entered into her blood
and warmed it! She allowed herself one quick glance at him.

'Do I walk too quick for you?'

'Oh no, sir. Mr. Kirkwood, please, there's something I--'

The sentence had, as it were, begun itself, but timidity cut it short.
Sidney stopped and looked at her.

'What? Something you wanted to tell me, Jane?'

He encouraged her, and at length she made her disclosure. It was of
what had happened in the public-house. The young man listened with much
attention, walking very slowly. He got her to repeat her second-hand
description of the old man who had been inquiring for people named
Snowdon.

'To think that you should have been just too late!' he exclaimed with
annoyance. 'Have you any idea who he was?'

'I can't thi