tormentors bent their steps towards the staircase. What crazy plan, if any, was in their heads, where they meant to take her, or where to leave her, Hester was destined never to learn. The little group, six flushed chattering boys, and one pale speechless girl, were swept into a corner of a landing by sudden pressure from the crowd, and remained there unwillingly, unable to move.

Hester gazed anxiously up the staircase. The great lamps, swinging in mid-air, had grown useless, their flame had waxed dim, for the pale green light of dawn was streaming through an upper window, with pathetic suggestions about anxious mothers and dying children, sickening the gaudy colours on the walls, making the painted beauties hurry on their masks, and the showy gallants of the evening look haggard and dishevelled and uncleanly. But by and by, in the midst of the feverish faces, there appeared one different from these, overtopping most of the crowd, a quiet, brave face, cool brows, eyes suffused, a face going forth, not ashamed to lift itself to look upon the sunrise, accustomed to breathe a breezy atmosphere suggestive of early rides when the first furrow is getting ploughed of a morning. Hester saw this good face coming down the staircase, and, for the first time, the idea sprang up in her mind, that she might appeal to a stranger for protection.

Whether she could ever have summoned courage to do so is not known; does not matter. Sir Archie Munro's wideawake eye caught the girl's frightened appealing look directed towards him, and responding to it like a true gentleman, he quietly so guided his course through the crowd that the girl soon found him, as if by accident, at her side. Desperation was at her heart then, struggling to her lips. She need not be dragged into the streets of London by these worse than crazy youths. Sir Archie did not fail to see the half-lifted hand and eyelid, that only wanted a little boldness to make a claim on his protection. He met the glance firmly, encouragingly, and a promise of powerful help shone out of his steady eyes.

You have lost your party?" he said. These are not your friends? I thought not. Be good enough to put your hand on my arm, and have no uneasiness."

Then he turned to the scapegrace lads, who took different attitudes at his interference, some ready to pick a quarrel, some inclined for a more prudent retreat.

"Come, young sirs," he said, severely, "begone and get you home to your beds. Such youngsters cannot be trusted out of the nursery without mischief. As the friend of this lady, I owe each of you a horsewhipping, but I will let you off

on account of your tender years. When you have slept on this matter, I trust, for the sake of the men you may one day become, that you will have the grace to feel ashamed of your conduct."

No other form of treatment could have punished the delinquents so keenly. Afraid of such terrible words being overheard, as addressed to them, they slunk away; one or two hanging their heads, the rest with a faint attempt at bluster and swagger.

After this was over and they had finally disappeared, Sir Archie and Hester passed half an hour on the staircase, watching in vain for a glimpse of any members of Lady Humphrey's party. At the end of that time Sir Archie became uneasy. He had pressing business of his own on hand, important as life and death, yet how could he desert this trembling girl, whom he had volunteered to protect? At last he said:

"I fear it is useless our waiting here longer. Strange as it may appear, I think your friends must have left the place without you. If you will tell me your address, I will bring you home without further delay."

"Oh!" said Hester, with new dismay; "but it is such a distance-all the way to Hampton Court Palace."

"Hampton Court Palace!" repeated Sir Archie. "Ah! that is far; that is too far, indeed,"

The hands of his watch were wearing towards four, and at half-past that hour it was required of him to be present in a very different place from this, and engaged upon far other affairs than the relief of distressed damsels. Whilst considering what could be done, he brought Hester down the lower stair, into the hall below, into the open air; and then, without further pause, he hailed a waiting vehicle, placed her within it, gave instructions to the driver, and took his place in the coach at her side.

As they drove along, he explained himself. "When you reflect upon this adventure to-morrow," he said, you will not blame me, I hope. You must excuse me if I have been brusque or stern. I am doing the best I can for you. It would be impossible for me to drive you to Hampton Court to-night, and I could not send you in a hired carriage alone. I have not a moment to lose, and I am going to leave you in the only place of safety I can think of. To-morrow I will call to see you, and we will contrive to send a message to your friends."

The carriage at this moment turned into an old-fashioned square, with a dusty-looking garden in the centre, and tufts

of grass growing up here and there between the paving stones, It stopped before a tall, wide, aged-looking house, with a gateway and windows which suggested that the house might have once been a nobleman's dwelling, perhaps in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. A great lantern hung before the entrance, the flame still burning in the grey daylight. Sir Archie, who had been scribbling in his pocket-book on his knees, sprang out of the coach, and pulled the heavy handle of a bell, which answered immediately with a great voice, that, in the utter silence of this place, they could hear making its sudden startling noise among the passages and chambers within. Sir Archie then assisted Hester from the coach, led her to the still-closed door under the shadow of a great black arch, and placed a written leaf of paper, unfolded in her hand.

'There may be yet some moments' delay about the opening of the door," he said, and I have not one to spare. But you need not have a shadow of tear. You are safe to gain admittance here," he added, with a latent smile about his eyes and lips as he looked down on her standing with her passport in her hand, full of faith-" as safe to gain admittance, as if you were waiting at the gate of heaven itself."

And then Sir Archie returned to his coach, and gave a fresh instruction to the driver. A moment longer he waited to hear the first bolt withdrawn behind the massive door, and to let his eye dwell with infinite approval on the slim white strip of a figure, the pale rim of a cheek, the little red hood half huddled over the loose golden hair. Truly Sir Archie had the eye of an artist, since, even in a moment like this, he could make pictures for himself out of a masquerading girl, a patch of dawn-streaked sky, and an old black archway with its lantern. A man who had seen all the wonderful sights of the world ought to have been less easily charmed with such simple materials. Yet long years later, it was found that this quaint bit of painting in the deserted old square had held its own in his memory, through light and through shade, against all other experiences of his educated eyes.

Meanwhile, Hester, standing on the grass-grown pavement, under the expiring lamp, and with the daylight brightening all round her, read the words written on the slip of paper in her hand:

"DEAR MARY,-Take the bearer in, and be kind to her. She is a young lady who has been parted from her friends by accident through no fault of hers. I know nothing of her. She must, of course, communicate with her friends immediately. I will call VOL. XXXV.-No. 413.

2 X

to-morrow to see you, and we can talk about this, as well as many other matters.

"With kind love, your brother,

"ARCHIE MUNRO.”

"Archie Munro !" cried Hester, aloud, in her amazement, and turned her head quickly over her shoulder to look after the retreating coach. It just passed out of sight, the sound of the wheels died away, and a large old rook, on a morning excursion far from his home in one of the parks, alighted almost at her feet, and hopped round and round her. But at the same moment the last of the bolts was withdrawn inside the queer dingy house, the faint flame of the lamp was suddenly quenched overhead, and the great black door shuddered, groaned, and swung back upon its hinges.

CHAPTER IX

A HOUSE OF PEACE

THE person who opened the door for Hester was a little plump pleasant-looking nun, comely and fresh, with a fair round face under her plaited wimple, most like a pink and white daisy. Her long black rosary clanked against the knee of the little portress from the struggles she had been making with the great chains and bolts of the heavy door. Doubtless in the days when this portal had been fashioned it had been the duty of at least two strong men to manage such ponderous bars upon the gate of their noble master. But a soft-handed young maiden sufficed to deal with them to-day.

She did not look much older than Hester, and the two girls stood gazing before them some moments, each in the most thorough amazement at the unexpected apparition of the other. Hester had never seen anyone in such a garb as this before, and the little nun, if she had ever met with costumes like Hester's during the term of her short acquaintanceship with the world, yet had certainly not looked to see a frightened Red Ridinghood on the threshold of her convent door of a morning.

But before there was time for a word to be spoken, the bright eyes of the little nun had travelled to Hester's weary lids, the look of surprise had passed away, and the paper which Hester carried being read, a glow of sympathy kindled the countenance of the portress.

"This is for Reverend Mother," she said, briskly. Sisters are singing matins in the choir. Come in."

So saying, she laid hold of Hester's hand, and led her down the hall, which was long and wide and lofty, as the entrance to such a dwelling should be, but was neither dark nor dingy. A landscape was painted on the ceiling, a little faded and obscured by age, but with colours still rich and soft enough to suit the present character of the place. A very broad staircase appeared in the background, with balustrades and steps of dark-grained oak, over which warm living jewels came dropping with the sunlight, whilst cherubs' heads, laid lovingly together, looked down out of a deeply-stained window from the landing above. There was a sound of muffled music in the air, lulling and swelling as through closed doors, supplicating strains rising and sustaining their demand, then falling, sinking away softly, with great comfort, as in thanksgiving. The little nun bent her head, and moved her lips while she walked, as though it were her duty to join in the prayer as well as she might be able, being accidentally at a distance from her nook among the singers.

In a place of pasture He hath set me," she murmured at a breath, like one hasty and hungry, swallowing a good thing. "The Lord ruleth me; and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture."

Then she threw open a door, and smiling, with the gladness of that whisper still lurking about her lips,

"Will you please to step in here," she said, "and wait, and I will go on the instant and give your message to Rev. Mother?"

The room into which Hester was thus shown had been the nobleman's dining-room. It had brown panelled walls, and a brown glittering floor. The two long windows set up high and narrow in the wall had heraldic devices carved over them. There was a large vase of roses and lilies, a full-length statue of Christ blessing little children, an alms-box, with its label, For the sick and dying poor," a table covered with a plain red cloth, an inkstand, bearing writing materials, a few books. The windows were already open, and there was not a speck of dust about the place. It shone with cleanliness, it smiled with cheerfulness, it gave one good morning out of all sorts of corners. It said, "See what a pleasant place has been prepared for you; sit down and rest. But Hester had no heart to respond to such a greeting. She stood there in this atmosphere of freshness and order, feeling all out of place in her flimsy crushed draperies, her gaudy mantle and dishevelled