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whose hood was as clammy and tender face as blue as those of the other travellers.

“Who is this—somebody you know ?” asked Ned, curiously,

“You, Ned. She's mine.”

"Yours?”

“Yes—my own !””

“Your own child ?”

“ Yes!"

"Well—as God’s in—”

“Ned, I didn’t name it in my letter, becanse, you sea, it would have been so hard to explain. I thought, that when we met I could tell you how she happened to be born, so much better than in writing. I hope you'll excuse it this once, dear Ned, and not scold me, now I've come so many, many miles |”

“This means Mr. Mop Ollamoor, I reckon !” said Hipcroft, gazing palely at them from the distance of the yard or two to which he had withdrawn with a start,

Car’line gasped. “Bat he’s been gone away for years!” she supplicated. “And I never had & young man before! And I was so onlucky to be catched the first time, though some of the girls down there go on like anything !”

Ned remained in silence, pondering.

“You'll forgive me, dear Ned ” she added, beginning to sob outright. “I baven’t taken ’ee in after all, because you can pack us back again, if you want to; though ‘tis hundreds o’ miles, and so wet, and night a-coming on, and I with no money !”

“What the devil can I do?” Hipcroft groaned.

A more pitiable pictare than the pair of helpless creatures presented was never seen on a tainy day, as they stood on the great, gaunt, puddied platform, a whiff of drizzle blowing under the roof upon them