ble people. And, mind you, I won't see my girl married to
that scoundrel, not if you do divorce 'im. No; she'll have her disgrace
for nothing."

Gyp, who had listened with her head a little bent, raised it suddenly,
and said:

"There'll be no public disgrace, Mr. Wagge, unless you make it yourself.
If you send Daphne--Daisy--quietly away somewhere till her trouble's
over, no one need know anything."

Mr. Wagge, whose mouth had opened slightly, and whose breathing could
certainly have been heard in the street, took a step forward and said:

"Do I understand you to say that you're not goin' to take proceedings,
ma'am?"

Gyp shuddered, and shook her head.

Mr. Wagge stood silent, slightly moving his face up and down.

"Well," he said, at length, "it's more than she deserves; but I don't
disguise it's a relief to me. And I must say, in a young lady like you,
and--and handsome, it shows a Christian spirit." Again Gyp shivered, and
shook her head. "It does. You'll allow me to say so, as a man old enough
to be your father--and a regular attendant."

He held out his hand. Gyp put her gloved hand into it.

"I'm very, very sorry. Please be nice to her."

Mr. Wagge recoiled a little, and for some seconds stood ruefully rubbing
his hands together and looking from side to side.

"I'm a domestic man," he said suddenly. "A domestic man in a serious
line of life; and I never thought to have anything like this in my
family--never! It's been--well, I can't tell you what it's been!"

Gyp took up her sunshade. She felt that she must get away; at any moment
he might say something she could not bear--and the smell of mutton
rising fast!

"I am sorry," she said again; "good-bye"; and moved past him to the
door. She heard him breathing hard as he followed her to open it, and
thought: 'If only--oh! please let him be silent till I get outside!' Mr.
Wagge passed her and put his hand on the latch of the front door. His
little piggy eyes scanned her almost timidly.

"Well," he said, "I'm very glad to have the privilege of your
acquaintance; and, if I may say so, you 'ave--you 'ave my 'earty
sympathy. Good-day."

The door once shut behind her, Gyp took a long breath and walked swiftly
away. Her cheeks were burning; and, with a craving for protection, she
put up her sunshade. But the girl's white face came up again before her,
and the sound of her words:

"Oh, Mrs. Fiorsen, I wish I was dead! I DO!"

XVI

Gyp walked on ben