t see anyone, but he seemed
so distressed. I promised to tell you. He says he must see you, and such
a nice gentleman he is."

Faith turned her face away.

"I can't! I don't want anyone! Leave me alone!"

The woman sighed and went away, and presently another step ascended the
narrow stairs--a man's heavier step.

Faith was crouched against the bed, facing the door, her eyes closed,
her cheek pressed to the sleeping hands to which she clung. Someone
spoke her name through the silent room: "Faith!" and then again, with
deepest pity: "Faith!"

The girl did not move. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, and
that the voice had spoken in her dream. Then as she looked up with a
wild hope that it was so--that all the past hour would prove to be
nothing but a terrible nightmare--her dazed, piteous eyes met those of
the Beggar Man.

All his life Nicholas Forrester remembered that room with its sloping
roof and poor furniture, and the sleeping twins lying on the bed, with
Faith, little more than a child herself, crouched on the floor beside
them.

Hot evening sunshine shone through the narrow window and fell right upon
the motherless little group, as with a stifled exclamation he went
forward and, stooping, lifted Faith to her feet.

"My poor little girl," he said, keeping his arms round her, and though
she made no effort to resist him, she stood apathetically enough, only
turning her head away when he would have kissed her.

He broke out into incoherent explanations.

"I only got to Liverpool last night. We ran into a fog-bank and had to
reduce speed. I tried to let you know but it seemed hopeless. I came as
quickly as I could."

She heard what he said disinterestedly, wondering why he chose to make
explanations at all, and when he had finished she looked at him with
dazed brown eyes.

"Mother is dead; did they tell you?"

"The woman downstairs told me. I can't tell you how grieved I am. If I
had only been here. If I had only been able to help."

The girl looked at him blankly; he had a kind face she thought, even as
she had thought that time of their first meeting, but now she knew that
he was not really kind or anything that he looked. He was Scammel who
had ruined her father, Scammel for whose sake all those girls at
Heeler's factory worked and sweated, and made money whereby to enrich
him.

"I don't know why you came here, anyway," she said helplessly.

He flushed and bit a lip, but he answered gen