hink?"

"Yes, my name is Kippen."

"I wanted to speak to you. I wanted so much to see you before this case
came on. My name is Youson, Lucinda Youson," she said, hurriedly.

"God bless me, is it though? You are----"

"Mr. Youson's daughter."

"My good woman, I hope you are not going to bother me," I said,
imploringly; "the case is out of my hands. I am bound over to prosecute.
It was a shameful robbery."

"My father did not rob you, Mr. Kippen. Does he look like a thief?"

"I don't know what he looks like."

[Illustration: "MR. YOUSON'S DAUGHTER."]

"You don't know the truth," she said quickly. "Perhaps you don't know
what kindness is, or charity--some people don't. You would not wait for
him to explain, and you have nearly killed us with anxiety. We--we did
not know what had become of him."

"Killed _us_," I repeated, vacantly; "are there many of you?"

"My sister-in-law and her little boy, and myself. And the boy is
dying--that's the worst of it--oh! poor little chap, that is the worst
of it! And his grandfather was so fond of him; he was selling the clock
so that the boy and his mother should go away to Madeira, the only
chance to save him, sir. The only chance that was left.

[Illustration: "THE BOY IS DYING."]

"And so he thought he would sell something valuable that did not belong
to him, and go to Madeira at my expense, and----"

"You must not say my father stole it--you dare not!" she cried, and her
eyes literally flashed fire at me. This young woman was as impulsive as
her felonious father. Here was another scene likely to spring up in the
street if I were not particularly careful, and I had had enough of
demonstrations in the public highway.

"My good woman, what is it that you want with me?"

"I want you to hear how that clock came into my father's possession, and
then--and then prosecute him if you can. And at your peril, sir--please
to understand, at your peril, though I utter no threats."

"It strikes me you do."

"No--no--I don't mean that," she cried. "Heaven help me, I am almost
distracted, I am not myself to-day, and you will listen? It will not
cost you anything to listen to me, sir, will it?"

She laid her hand upon my arm entreatingly--she had very earnest brown
eyes, and I was not, as I thought, wholly unsusceptible to the influence
of brown eyes upon the nervous system. And as she had delicately
intimated that listening would not cost me anything, why should I object
to lis