“Lucy, you. Huge trees obscured the view of it. You are alone in the world, you have no one save yourself to consider. It is no good. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. Jeez! It was about time. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Lady Trafford, supposed to be childless, broken in health and spirits, frail both in mind and body, is not likely to make another marriage. “‘Go it, missie,’ they said; “kick aht!’ “I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him.
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