d in London streets helpless and hopeless but
to renew his old ways of thieving and starvation. Nobody had told him
better; no one had shewed the child kindness; was he to blame?"

"Somebody shewed him kindness at last," said Mr. Carlisle, looking into
the lustrous eyes which were so full of their subject.

"Who, do you think?"

"Impossible for me to guess--since you were not here."

"One of the most noted thieves in London went to one of the city
missionaries and told him of the boy and recommended him to his
kindness."

"Impelled by what earthly motive?"

"The misery of the case."

"Why did he not teach him his own trade?"

"The question the missionary put to him. The thief answered that he
knew a thief's life too well."

"I should like to see you before a committee of the House of Commons,"
said Mr. Carlisle, taking two or three steps away and then returning.
"Well?"

"Well--the missionary put the child with some decent people, where he
was washed and clothed. But it is impossible for met to tell, as it was
too bad to be told to me, the state to which squalor, starvation, and
all that goes with it, had brought the child. He went to school; and
two years after was well, healthy, flourishing, intelligent, one of the
best and most useful lads at the establishment where he was employed.
Now Lord Cushley has sent him to Australia."

"Eleanor, I will never say anything against Ragged schools again."

"Then I have not spoken in vain," said Eleanor rising.

He took her hand, held it, bowed his lips to it, held it still, too
firmly for Eleanor to disengage it without violence.

"Will you grant me one little favour?"

"You take without asking, Mr. Carlisle!"

He smiled and kissed her hand again, not releasing it, however.

"Let me go with you to Field-Lane in future."

"What would you do there?"

"Take care of you."

"As I do not need it, you would be exceedingly bored; finding yourself
without either business or pleasure."

"Do you think that what interests you will not interest me?"

A change came over her face--a high grave light, as she answered,--"Not
till you love the Master I do. Not till his service is your delight, as
it is mine.--Mr. Carlisle, if you will allow me, I will ring the bell
for tea."

He rang the bell for her instantly, and then came to her side again,
and waited till the servant was withdrawn.

"Eleanor, seriously, I am not satisfied to have you go to that place
alone."