he
had not flown, she walked beside him placidly. She had no intention
of flight. He tried to resign himself to the task of beating down her
trivial objections, curbing his athletic impulse to leap over them.

"Another sphere,"--he caught a subtle pleasure in her enunciation. "I
suppose you mean high society; but it would never be the same."

"Not quite the same. You would have to drive to see your sinners in a
carriage and pair, and you might be obliged to dine with them in--what
do ladies generally dine in?--white satin and diamonds, or pearls.
I think I would rather see you in pearls." He was aware of the
inexcusableness of the points he made, but he only stopped to laugh
inwardly at their impression, watching the absorbed turn of her head.

"We might think it well to be a little select in our sinners--most of
them would be on Government House list, just as most of your present
ones are on the lists of the charitable societies or the police
magistrates. But you would find just as much to do for them."

"I should not even know how to act in such company."

"You can go home for a year, if you like, to be taught, to some people I
know; delightful people, who will understand. A year! You will learn in
three months--what odds and ends there are to know. I couldn't spare you
for a year."

Lindsay stopped. He had to. Captain Filbert was murmuring the cadences
of a hymn. She went through two stanzas, and covered her eyes for a
moment with her hand. When she spoke it was in a quiet, level, almost
mechanical way. "Yes," she said. "The Cross and the Crown, the Crown and
the Cross. Father in heaven, I do not forget Thy will and Thy purpose,
that I should bring the word of Thy love to the poor and the lowly, the
outcast and those despised. And what I say to this man, who offers me
the gifts and the gladness of a world that had none for Thee, is the
answer Thou hast put in my heart--that the work is Thine and that I
am Thine, and he has no part or lot in me, nor can ever have. Here is
Crooked Lane. Good-night, Mr. Lindsay." She had slipped into the devious
darkness of the place before he could find any reply, before he quite
realised, indeed, that they had reached her lodging. He could only utter
a vague "Goodnight," after her, formulating more definite statements to
himself a few minutes later, in Bentinck Street.

CHAPTER XI

Miss Howe was walking in the business quarter of Calcutta. It was the
business quarter, y