s life."

"I wonder," Sydney confessed, "how you met with him."

"There was nothing at all romantic in my first discovery of him. I was
reading the police reports in a newspaper. The poor wretch was brought
before a magistrate, charged with breaking a window. His one last chance
of escaping starvation in the streets was to get sent to prison. The
magistrate questioned him, and brought to light a really heart-breaking
account of misfortune, imbittered by neglect on the part of people in
authority who were bound to help him. He was remanded, so that inquiries
might be made. I attended the court on the day when he appeared there
again, and heard his statement confirmed. I paid his fine, and contrived
to put him in a way of earning a little money. He was very grateful, and
came now and then to thank me. In that way I heard how his troubles had
begun. He had asked for a small advance on the wretched wages that he
received. Can you guess how the schoolmistress answered him?"

"I know but too well how she answered him," Sydney said; "I was turned
out of the house, too."

"And I heard of it," the Captain replied, "from the woman herself.
Everything that could distress me she was ready to mention. She told me
of your mother's second marriage, of her miserable death, of the poor
boy, your brother, missing, and never heard of since. But when I asked
where you had gone she had nothing more to say. She knew nothing, and
cared nothing, about you. If I had not become acquainted with Mr. Randal
Linley, I might never have heard of you again. We will say no more of
that, and no more of anything that has happened in the past time. From
to-day, my dear, we begin a new life, and (please God) a happier life.
Have you any plans of your own for the future?"

"Perhaps, if I could find help," Sydney said resignedly, "I might
emigrate. Pride wouldn't stand in my way; no honest employment would be
beneath my notice. Besides, if I went to America, I might meet with my
brother."

"My dear child, after the time that has passed, there is no imaginable
chance of your meeting with your brother--and you wouldn't know each
other again if you did meet. Give up that vain hope and stay here with
me. Be useful and be happy in your own country."

"Useful?" Sydney repeated sadly. "Your own kind heart, Captain
Bennydeck, is deceiving you. To be useful means, I suppose, to help
others. Who will accept help from me?"

"I will, for one," the Captain answer