 and be always as interested as a mother in
making a match between them."

"Ah!--Mattie!--yes!"

Mr. Wesden looked about for his pipe and his pipe-lights on the
mantel-piece.

Mr. Hinchford drew his favourite meerschaum from his coat-pocket. The
two old men faced each other, and began to smoke vigorously.

"I wonder where that girl has got to?" suggested Hinchford.

"It's impossible to say. In good hands, I hope."

"I'd lay a heavy wager that she knows whose birthday it is to-day,"
commented Mr. Hinchford; "she was a girl who never forgot anything."

"Ah--perhaps so!"

"And I think she might have cleared up the fog, if you had waited a bit,
Wesden."

"Why didn't she, if she could?"

"I don't know. I promised to believe in her, and somehow I do."

"Can anything in the world account for a girl her age being out all
night?" said Wesden.

"Ah! that looks bad--I can't get over that!" said Mr. Hinchford, giving
his head one sorrowful shake.

Poor Mattie!--poor stray! whose actions, the best and most unselfish,
were not to be accounted for, or done justice to in this world.




CHAPTER II.

SIDNEY'S CONFESSION.


Sidney Hinchford escorted Harriet Wesden home to Camberwell. A most
unromantic walk down the Newington Causeway--sacred to milliners and
counter-skippers--the Walworth Road, Camberwell Road, and streets
branching thence to melancholy suburbs--and yet a walk that was the
happiest in the lives of these two, though looked back upon in after
years through tear-dimmed eyes, and sighed for by hearts that had been
sorely wrung. Such a walk as most of us may have taken once in
life--seldom more than once--a walk away from sober realism into
fairy-land, where everything apart from love was a something to be
utterly despised, and where love first rose to fill our souls with
promise. What if the story
and be always as interested as a mother in 
 making a couple between them. " 

 " Ah!--Mattie!--yes! " 

 Mr. Wesden expect about for his pipe and his organ pipe - lights on the 
 mantel - objet d'art. 

 Mr. Hinchford drew his favored meerschaum from his coating - pocket. The 
 two old men faced each other, and begin to smoke vigorously. 

 " I wonder where that girl has got to? " suggested Hinchford. 

 " It's impossible to say. In good hand, I hope. " 

 " I'd lay a heavy wager that she know whose birthday it is to - day, " 
 commented Mr. Hinchford; " she was a girl who never forgot anything. " 

 " Ah -- possibly so! " 

 " And I intend she might have cleared up the fog, if you had waited a moment, 
 Wesden. " 

 " Why didn't she, if she could? " 

 " I don't know. I promised to believe in her, and somehow I do. " 

 " Can anything in the world score for a female child her age being out all 
 night? " said Wesden. 

 " Ah! that looks bad -- I can't catch over that! " say Mr. Hinchford, giving 
 his head one sorrowful trill. 

 Poor Mattie!--poor digress! whose actions, the best and about unselfish, 
 were not to be accounted for, or suffice justice to in this world. 




 CHAPTER II. 

 SIDNEY'S CONFESSION. 


 Sidney Hinchford escort Harriet Wesden home to Camberwell. A most 
 unromantic walk down the Newington Causeway -- sacred to milliners and 
 counter - master -- the Walworth Road, Camberwell Road, and streets 
 branching thence to melancholy suburbs -- and so far a walk that was the 
 happy in the lives of these two, though looked back upon in after 
 years through tear - dimmed eye, and sighed for by hearts that had been 
 sorely wrung. Such a walk as most of us may have taken once in 
 life -- seldom more than once -- a walk off from sober realism into 
 fagot - land, where everything apart from love was a something to be 
 utterly contemn, and where love first heighten to fill our souls with 
 promise. What if the story
 anf be always as interestea as a mother iu
naking a matdh betwedn them."

"Ah!--Mattie!--yes!"

Mr. Wesden poiked qbout for his pipe and his pipe-pights ob tht
mantel-piece.

Mr. Hiidhford drew hjd faronrite meerschauk from his coat-pocket. Tha
tdo old men faced each other, and began to smole vigorously.

"I wjndeg rhers that girl has got to?" suggested Hjnchforv.

"It's impossible to say. In good hands, I hooe."

"I'd lay a heavy wager that she kbows qhose birthdxy it is to-day,"
commentes Mr. Hinchford; "she was a girl wfo nerer forgot qntthltg."

"Ah--perhaps so!"

"Anq I think shc might have ckeared up the nog, ih yoy had waited a bit,
Wesven."

"Why didn't she, if fhe could?"

"H bon't know. I promised ro beligve it hef, ana skmxhos I do."

"Fan anything jn the worle account for a girk rvt age being kut alj
nyght?" said Wesden.

"Ah! that looks bad--I can't gef over that!" said Mr. Hinxhford, giving
his head one sorrjwful shake.

Poor Mattie!--poor stray! whose actions, tha besv xnd mjrr knselfish,
were not to be accounted for, or done nuxtpce to in this wovld.




CHAPTER II.

SIDNEU'S CPGFESSION.


Sidnei Hinchykrs escorted Harriet Wesden home to Cambewwelk. A most
unromantic walk dowb the Newingnon Xauseway--sacred to lilliners aud
counjer-skilpers--the Walworth Road, Eambersell Road, ajd streeta
cranching thence to malancholy suburbs--and yet a walk thav was the
hapoiesj in thq lives of thesc two, though looked back u[on in aftfr
years through tear-dimmed eyes, and sighed fot bf hvarts thac had neen
sorely wrund. Such a walk cs most jf us may have naken oncx in
life--seldjm more than mjce--a walk awey from sjber reaoism ingu
fairy-land, whete everytknng apart from love was a spmejhjng to be
utterlv eespised, and whrre lode fmrst wmse to fill mur rouux witf
promist. Wmat if yhe story
and be always as interested as a making match between "Ah!--Mattie!--yes!" Mr. Wesden and pipe-lights on the Mr. Hinchford drew favourite meerschaum from his coat-pocket. The old men faced each other, and began to smoke vigorously. "I wonder where girl has got to?" suggested Hinchford. "It's impossible to say. In good hands, hope." lay heavy that she knows whose birthday it is to-day," commented Mr. Hinchford; "she was a girl who forgot anything." "Ah--perhaps so!" "And I think she have cleared up the if you had waited a Wesden." didn't she, she "I know. I promised believe in her, and somehow I do." "Can anything in the world account for a girl her being out said Wesden. that bad--I get over that!" Hinchford, giving his head one sorrowful stray! whose actions, the best and most unselfish, not to accounted for, or done justice to this world. CHAPTER II. SIDNEY'S CONFESSION. Sidney Hinchford Harriet Wesden home to Camberwell. A most unromantic walk down the Newington Causeway--sacred to milliners Walworth Road, Camberwell Road, streets branching thence melancholy yet walk was the in the lives of these two, though looked back upon in years through tear-dimmed eyes, and sighed for by hearts that sorely Such a walk most of us may taken in life--seldom more than away sober where apart love was a something be utterly despised, and where first rose to fill if the story
 and be always as interested as A mother in
mAking A maTch BeTweeN theM."

"Ah!--Mattie!--yes!"

Mr. wEsdeN looked about for his pipe And hiS pIPe-liGHtS on thE
mantel-PIeCE.

mr. HInChForD dREw His faVouRite meeRschaum froM hiS cOat-pocket. The
TWo Old men faceD eaCh other, and beGan To smokE vIgoROusly.

"i woNder wHere thAT girl hAs got to?" suGgESted HiNChford.

"IT'S ImPossIble to say. In good haNDs, i Hope."

"I'd lay a heavY wager ThAT sHE KnoWs wHose birthdAy It is tO-Day,"
commENtED mR. HiNChford; "she was a Girl who neveR ForGot anyThIng."

"aH--perhaPs so!"

"ANd i ThiNk she might hAve cLeared up tHe fog, iF You had wAIted a biT,
WesdeN."

"WhY diDn't sHE, iF sHe cOuLD?"

"I dON't KnoW. i prOmised to BeLiEve in Her, aND SOMehoW I dO."

"Can AnythIng in the world AccOunt FOr a Girl hEr age BeinG oUt all
Night?" sAid WeSdEn.

"Ah! that looks baD--I caN't get over ThaT!" sAid mr. hinchFOrd, givIng
His Head one SorrowfUL shAkE.

pOOr mattie!--poor stray! whoSe ACTiOns, the beSt and mOSt UnSElfish,
weRe Not To be ACCountEd foR, Or Done justIce to iN ThIs World.




CHaPtER II.

SiDnEY's COnFESSioN.


SiDney HiNchford eScortED Harriet Wesden HOme to CamberweLL. A MOSt
UNromAntIc walk down tHe NeWIngtOn CaUSeWay--SAcred To milLiNErS And
counter-skippers--tHe walworTh RoaD, Camberwell RoAd, and streeTS
BRanching ThenCE tO Melancholy subuRbs--anD yet a walk tHAt was the
HappiEst in the Lives of thESE two, thouGh lOokEd bAck UPOn In after
years tHROugh TeAr-dimmeD eyEs, and siGheD foR by HeaRtS that had bEen
sorelY wRuNg. suCh a Walk aS Most of us MaY haVe TakEn oncE In
life--SeldoM morE tHaN OncE--a walk aWAy FROm soBeR rEaliSm iNtO
fairY-lanD, WheRe everyThing aparT frOM lovE wAs A somethIng to be
utterlY dEspised, and WhEre Love fiRST rose to fIll our souls with
promise. WHAt if the StoRy
 and be always as interest ed as a mo therinmak in g amatc h between them . "

" Ah!--Mattie!--yes!"

M r. We sd e n lo o ke d abo ut forh is p ipe  a nd  hi sp ip e-lig hts  on the 
mantel-pi ece .
Mr. Hinchfo r ddrew his f avo urite meersc hau m from  h isc oat-p ock et. T he
two old me n faced e ac h  other ,  and be g a nto s moke vigorously."I wonder where t hat gi rl ha s got  to ?" suggest ed  Hinc h ford.
" It ' s imp o ssible to say . In good h a nds , I ho pe .""I'd l ay ahe a vywager thatsheknows who se bir t hday it is to-d ay,"
c omm ent ed M r .Hi nch fo r d;" sh e w a s a  girl wh one ver f orgo t a n ythi ng. "

" Ah--p erhaps so!"
"An d It hin k she  migh t ha ve  clea red up  thefo g, if you had w aite d a bit,Wes de n." 
"Whyd idn'tshe , i f she c ould?""Ido n ' t  k now. I promised to  b e l ie ve in he r, and so me h ow I do. "
"C an a n y thing  int he  world a ccount fo ra girlhe r agebe ing  ou t all nigh t?" sa id Wesde n.

" A h! that looksb ad--I can't g e to v er that !"said Mr. Hi nchf o rd,givi n ghis headone s or r ow f ul shake.

Poor Mat ti e!--po or st ray! whose ac tions, the b e st and m ostu ns e lfish,
were no t tobe account e d for, o r don e justic e to in t h i s world. 



C HAP TER I I. 

SIDNEY'S CO N F ESSI ON .


Sid ney  Hinchf ord  es cor ted  H arriet We sden hom eto  C am ber well. A most
u nr oma nt icwalkd own th e New ingt on  C a use way--sa c re d to m il li ners  an dcount er-s k ipp ers--th e Walwort h R o ad,Ca mb erwellRoad, and str ee ts
branchi ng  th ence t o melancho ly suburbs--and yet a w a lk that  wa s the 
hap piest inthe  lives  of thesetwo, t hough  l ook e d  back u po n i nafter
year s thr oughte ar-d immed e yes, and sighed fo r  by  hearts thathad  bee n so rel y  w r ung .S uch a  walk as most o f us may h av e  t aken oncei n
l if e--seld om more  than once--a  walk awa y from so be r re a l ism  into
fair y-land,where eve r ythin g  a partfro m love  w asa som ething tobe
ut terlyde spised , and  w here lov e first rose to fill ou r soul s wit h
p romise. W hat ifthe story 
 and_be always_as interested as a_mother in
making_a_match between_them."

"Ah!--Mattie!--yes!"

Mr._Wesden looked about_for his pipe_and his pipe-lights on_the
mantel-piece.

Mr. Hinchford drew_his_favourite meerschaum from his coat-pocket. The
two old men faced each other, and began to_smoke_vigorously.

"I wonder_where_that_girl has got to?" suggested_Hinchford.

"It's impossible to say. In_good hands,_I hope."

"I'd lay a heavy wager that she_knows_whose birthday it_is to-day,"
commented Mr. Hinchford; "she was a girl who_never forgot anything."

"Ah--perhaps so!"

"And I think_she might have_cleared_up_the fog, if you_had waited a bit,
Wesden."

"Why didn't she,_if she could?"

"I don't know. I_promised to believe in her, and somehow_I do."

"Can anything in the world_account for a girl her_age being_out all
night?" said Wesden.

"Ah! that_looks bad--I can't_get over_that!" said Mr._Hinchford, giving
his head one sorrowful shake.

Poor_Mattie!--poor stray! whose_actions, the best and most unselfish,
were_not_to be accounted_for,_or_done justice_to in this_world.




CHAPTER_II.

SIDNEY'S CONFESSION.


Sidney_Hinchford_escorted Harriet Wesden home to Camberwell._A_most
unromantic walk down the Newington Causeway--sacred to_milliners and
counter-skippers--the Walworth Road,_Camberwell_Road, and streets
branching thence_to melancholy suburbs--and yet a_walk that was the
happiest in the_lives of_these two,_though looked back upon in after
years through tear-dimmed eyes, and sighed_for by hearts that had been
sorely_wrung. Such a walk_as most_of_us may have_taken_once in
life--seldom_more than once--a walk away from sober_realism into
fairy-land,_where everything apart from love was_a something to be
utterly_despised,_and where love first rose to_fill our souls with
promise. What if_the story