streets, that a
second chance of the same kind, only a few minutes later, surprised him
greatly. This time the meeting as a pleasant one; somebody ran across
to him from over the way, and he saw that it was Sally Fisher. She
looked pleased. The girl had preserved a good deal of her sea-side
complexion through the year and a half of town life, and, when happy,
glowed all over her cheeks with the healthiest hue. She held out her
hand in the usual frank, impulsive way.

"Oh, I thought it was you! You won't see I no more at the old place."

"No? How's that?"

"I'm leavin' un to-morrow. I've got a place in a shop, just by here,--a
chandler's shop, and I'm going to live in."

"Indeed? Well, I'm glad to hear it. I dare say you'll be better off."

"Oh, I say,--you know your friend?"

"The Irishman?"

"Yes."

"What about him?" asked the other, smiling as he looked into the girl's
pretty face.

"Well," said Sally, "I don't mind you telling un where I live now,--if
you like.--Look, there's the address on that paper; you can take it."

"Oh, I see. In point of fact, you _wish_ me to tell him?"

"Oh, I don't care. I dessay he don't want to know anything about I. But
you can if you like."

"I will be sure to, and no doubt he will be delighted. He's been
growing thin since I told him you declined to renew his acquaintance."

"Oh, don't talk! And now I must be off. Good-bye. I dessay I shall see
you sometimes?"

"Without doubt. We'll have another Sunday at Richmond soon. Good-bye."

It was about four in the afternoon when Sally reached home, and she ran
up at once to Ida's room, and burst in, crying out, "I've got it! I've
got it!" with much dancing about and joyous singing. Ida rose with a
faint smile of welcome. She had been sitting at the window, reading a
book lent her by Waymark.

"They said they liked my appearance," Sally went on, "and 'ud give me a
try. I go in to-morrow. It won't be a over easy place, neither. I've to
do all the cleaning in the house, and there's a baby to look after when
I'm not in the shop."

"And what will they give you?"

"Ten shillings a month for the first half-year; then a rise."

"And you're satisfied?"

"Oh, it'll do till something better turns up. Oh, I say, I met your
friend just after I'd come away."

"Did you?" said Ida quietly.

"Yes; and I told him he could tell his friend where I was, if he liked."

"His friend?"

"The Irishman, you know," explained Sally, moving