 Sidney Hinchford and Harriet's--but
they were happy. The calamity was in the distance, and their hearts were
young and strong. Both had faith then--and of the chances and changes of
life, it was not natural to dwell upon, after the one avowal had been
uttered.

"Then it _is_ an engagement," he had asked hoarsely, and she had
answered "Yes," with his own frankness and boldness; and thus the path
ahead seemed bright enough.

Outside the suburban retreat of the Wesdens', Sidney Hinchford had a
little struggle with duty and inclination--conquering inclination with
that strong will of his.

"I'll go back to the old gentleman," he said at last; "he is scarcely
used to my reappearance yet, and a little makes him nervous. Good-bye,
love."

A lovers parting at the iron gate, to the intense edification of the
potman coming up the street with the nine o'clock beer; and then Sidney
tore himself homewards, thinking what a happy fellow he was, and how the
business disappointments of life had been softened by the events that
had followed them. The future could not be dark with Harriet; before
this he had become resigned to his calamity, bent his strong mind to
regard it as inevitable; now there was to come happiness with it, and he
would be more than content, he thought.

He was soon back in Suffolk Street. Mr. Wesden was in the shop talking
to a short, thin man with a sallow complexion, a hooked nose, bright
black eyes, and straight hair; a man dressed in black; with a rusty
satin stock of the same colour, secured by an old-fashioned brooch of
gold wire, in the shape of a heart.

"And her name was Mattie, you say?"

"That was the name she called herself, and went always by in this
house."

"And you don't know her whereabouts?"

"I haven't an idea."

"But you think she has gone wrong, don't you?" the man asked with no
small eagerness.

"Well, I hope not; but I think so."

"Who? Mattie!" cried Sidney, suddenly thrusting
Sidney Hinchford and Harriet's -- but 
 they were happy. The calamity was in the distance, and their hearts were 
 young and strong. Both take religion then -- and of the chances and changes of 
 life, it was not lifelike to dwell upon, after the one avowal had been 
 uttered. 

 " Then it _ is _ an engagement, " he had ask hoarsely, and she had 
 answered " Yes, " with his own frankness and boldness; and therefore the way 
 ahead seemed bright enough. 

 Outside the suburban retirement of the Wesdens', Sidney Hinchford had a 
 little struggle with duty and tendency -- conquering inclination with 
 that strong will of his. 

 " I'll go back to the erstwhile gentleman, " he said at last; " he is scarcely 
 use to my reappearance yet, and a little makes him nervous. full - bye, 
 love. " 

 A lovers parting at the iron gate, to the intense edification of the 
 potboy coming up the street with the nine o'clock beer; and then Sidney 
 tore himself homewards, thinking what a happy fellow he was, and how the 
 business disappointment of life had been softened by the events that 
 had followed them. The future could not be dark with Harriet; before 
 this he had become resigned to his calamity, bent his strong mind to 
 regard it as inevitable; nowadays there was to come happiness with it, and he 
 would be more than subject, he think. 

 He was soon back in Suffolk Street. Mr. Wesden was in the shop talking 
 to a short, flimsy man with a sallow complexion, a hooked nose, bright 
 bootleg eyes, and straight hair; a man dressed in black; with a rusty 
 satin stock of the same colour, secured by an old - fashioned brooch of 
 amber wire, in the supreme headquarters allied powers europe of a affection. 

 " And her name was Mattie, you say? " 

 " That was the name she called herself, and went always by in this 
 family. " 

 " And you don't know her whereabouts? " 

 " I haven't an idea. " 

 " But you remember she has gone wrong, don't you? " the man ask with no 
 small readiness. 

 " Well, I hope not; but I think so. " 

 " Who? Mattie! " cried Sidney, suddenly thrusting
 Sifney Hinchford and Harritt's--but
they were hcppy. Thx calamjty was kn the distance, and their heerts were
toung and strong. Both fad faith then--and of uhe chances and ciznges on
jife, lt wav not natural tp dwell upmn, after the ote arowal had been
uttered.

"Then it _is_ an eggagememt," he had asked roarxqly, znd she had
answered "Yes," with his osn frannness and bolcness; and thus the path
ahewd sfemed bright enougj.

Outside thg sufyrban retreag of the Wtsbens', Sidney Hinchford had a
little struggle with duty and unxlijdtion--conquecing igclination wlnh
that vtrong eill of his.

"I'll go baxk to the old gentlemen," he said at last; "hg is scarcalv
used to my reappearabcw yet, and a lkrtld mzkxs gim negvons. Good-bye,
lkve."

A lovers parting at the irom dqte, to the infense qdyfication of the
potman coming up the stgeet with the nine o'clock bwer; and then Sidney
tote himself homewards, thinking what a happy fellow he was, ang how ghe
ymfkbeds disappointments of life had been softened fg uhe events that
hab followed them. Yhf goture could noj be daxi sith Harriet; beforf
this hg had vecome refignrd to his calamity, bent his strong mind ro
regard it as ineritable; now chere eas tp come happiness with ic, and ge
would be lore than zontent, he thougft.

Hv wav soon back in Suffolk Strqet. Mr. Wewden was in the shop ealking
to w shovd, thin man with a dalloc com[lexion, a jooked nose, bright
black eyes, anv straight haor; a kan dresfed ik black; with a wusty
satin stoek of thz same colour, sebured by en old-fashioged brooch of
clld wire, in vhe shape of q heqrt.

"And fdr name was Maytie, you say?"

"That waw the name she calked gerself, and wenc qlways by in thos
huusq."

"Ajd yjg don't know ver dhefrabougs?"

"I havtu't cn ides."

"But you think she hds gkne wrong, don't you?" tme man asjed with no
small eagetness.

"Well, I hope nlt; buv I thmnk so."

"Eho? Mattie!" cried Sidney, suddenly fhrusting
Sidney Hinchford and Harriet's--but they were happy. was the distance, their hearts were faith of the chances changes of life, was not natural to dwell upon, the one avowal had been uttered. "Then it _is_ an engagement," he had hoarsely, and she had answered "Yes," with his own frankness and boldness; and the ahead bright Outside the suburban retreat of the Wesdens', Sidney Hinchford had a little struggle with duty and inclination with that strong will of his. "I'll back to the old he said at last; "he scarcely to my yet, a makes him nervous. love." A lovers parting at the iron gate, to the intense edification of the potman coming up street with o'clock beer; then tore homewards, thinking what fellow he was, and how the life had been softened by the events that followed them. future could not be dark with before this he had become resigned to his bent his strong mind to regard it as inevitable; now there was to come happiness and he would be than content, he He soon in Street. Mr. was in the shop talking to a short, thin man with sallow complexion, a hooked nose, bright black eyes, and straight man in black; with rusty satin stock of same secured by an old-fashioned gold in a "And name was Mattie, you "That was the name she herself, and went always you don't know her whereabouts?" "I haven't an "But you think she has gone wrong, you?" the man asked with no small eagerness. "Well, I hope not; I think Mattie!" cried Sidney, suddenly thrusting
 Sidney Hinchford and Harriet'S--but
they weRe hapPy. THe cAlAmitY was In the distance, aND theIr hearts were
young and stRong. BOtH Had fAItH then--And of thE ChANCes AnD cHanGeS Of
Life, iT waS not natUral to dwelL upOn, After the one aVOwAl had been
uTteRed.

"Then it _is_ aN enGagemeNt," He hAD askeD hoArselY, and shE Had
ansWered "Yes," wItH His own FRanknesS ANd BoldNess; and thus the patH
AhEAd seemed bright Enough.

ouTSiDE The SubUrban retreAt Of the wEsdens', SIDnEY hIncHFord had a
littlE struggle wiTH duTy and iNcLinATion--coNquerInG IncLination witH
thaT strong wiLl of hiS.

"i'll go baCK to the oLd gentLemAn," hE saiD At LaSt; "hE iS ScaRCeLy
uSEd tO my reappEaRaNce yeT, and A LITTle mAkeS him NervoUs. Good-bye,
love."

a loVers PArtIng at The irOn gaTe, To the IntensE edifIcAtion of the
potmaN comIng up the sTreEt WitH tHe ninE O'clock BeeR; anD then SiDney
torE HimSeLF HOmEwards, thinking what A hAPPy Fellow he Was, and HOw ThE
Business DiSapPoinTMEnts oF lifE HaD been sofTened bY ThE eVents thAt
Had folLoWed TheM. The fUTure Could nOt be dark With HARriet; before
thiS He had become reSIgNED tO His cAlaMity, bent his StroNG minD to
rEGaRd iT As ineVitabLe; NOw THere was to come happinEsS with iT, and hE
would be more tHan content, HE THought.

He Was sOOn BAck in Suffolk StReet. MR. Wesden was IN the shop TalkiNg
to a shoRt, thin man WITh a salloW coMplExiOn, a HOOkEd nose, bright
bLACk eyEs, And straIghT hair; a mAn dResSed In bLaCk; with a ruSty
satin StOcK oF tHe sAme coLOur, securEd By aN oLd-fAshioNEd brooCh of
gOld wIrE, iN The Shape of A HeART.

"And HeR nAme wAs MAtTie, yoU say?"

"tHat Was the nAme she calLed HErseLf, AnD went alWays by in this
hOuSe."

"And you doN't KnoW her whEREabouts?"

"I Haven't an idea."

"But you think SHe has goNe wRong, dOn't yOu?" the man aSkeD with nO
smALl eageRness.

"WEll, I hOpE noT; BUt I thINK sO."

"WhO? MAttie!" cried sIDneY, suddEnLy thRusting
 Sidney Hinchford and Harr iet's--but 
they  we reha ppy.  The  calamity wasi n th e distance, and theirheart sw erey ou ng an d stron g .B o thha dfai th th en--a ndof thechances an d c ha nges of
life ,  i t was notnat ural to dwel l u pon, a ft ert he on e a vowal  had b e en
utt ered.

"T he n  it _i s _ an en g a ge ment ," he had asked h o ar s ely, and she h ad
ans we r ed " Yes ,"with his o wn  fran k ness an d  b o l d nes s ; and thus th e path
ahea d  se emed b ri ght enough .

Ou ts i dethe suburba n re treat ofthe We s dens',S idney H inchfo rdhad  a
l i tt le  st ru g gle wi thd uty  and inc li na tion- -con q u e r inginc lina tionwith
that str ong  wil l  of  his. 

"I' ll g obackto the  oldge ntleman," he sa id a t last; " heis  sc ar celyu sed to  my  re appeara nce yet ,  an da l it tle makes him nerv ou s .  G ood-bye, 
love. " 
Al overs pa rt ing  att h e iro n ga t e,  to theintens e  e di ficatio nof the 
p otm ancomin g  upthe st reet wit h the nine o'clock b e er; and thenS id n e yt orehim self homewa rds, thin king wh ata  happ y fel lo w  h e  was, and how the
b us inessdisap pointments of  life hadb e e n soften ed b y  t h e events thathad f ollowed th e m. The f uture  could n ot be dar k with Har rie t;bef ore t hi s he had beco m e  res ig ned tohis  calami ty,  be nthis  s trong min d to
reg ar dit  a s i nevit a ble; now  t her ewas  to c o me hap pines s wi th  i t , a nd he
w o ul d be m or ethan  co nt ent,he t h oug ht.

He  was soon  ba c k in  S uf folk St reet. Mr. Wes de n was in t he  sh op tal k i ng
to ashort, thin man with as allow c omp lexio n, a  hooked n ose , brig htb lack e yes, a nd st ra igh t hair; a  m andr essed in b l a ck;  with  a  rus ty
sati n stock of the sam e  co lour, secured  by  ano l d- fas h io n edbr o och o f
gold wire, in  the shape  o f  a  heart.

" A ndhe r namewas Mat tie,y ou say? "

"Thatwas the n am e sh e cal led hersel f, and w ent alway s  by i n  t his
h ous e."

" An d y ou do n't kn o w h er wh ereabo ut s?"

" I hav en 't an id ea."

"But you think sh e hasgonewro ng, don't  yo u ?"the man a sked  with no
s mal l e agern ess . 

"We ll,I  h ope not;butI  think so . "
"W h o ?Mattie!" cr i e d  Si dney,  su d denlythru sting
 Sidney_Hinchford and_Harriet's--but
they were happy. The_calamity was_in_the distance,_and_their hearts were
young_and strong. Both_had faith then--and of_the chances and_changes_of
life, it was not natural to dwell upon, after the one avowal had been
uttered.

"Then_it__is_ an_engagement,"_he_had asked hoarsely, and she_had
answered "Yes," with his own_frankness and_boldness; and thus the path
ahead seemed bright enough.

Outside_the_suburban retreat of_the Wesdens', Sidney Hinchford had a
little struggle with duty_and inclination--conquering inclination with
that strong will_of his.

"I'll go_back_to_the old gentleman," he_said at last; "he is scarcely
used_to my reappearance yet, and a_little makes him nervous. Good-bye,
love."

A lovers parting_at the iron gate, to the_intense edification of the
potman coming_up the_street with the nine o'clock_beer; and then_Sidney
tore himself_homewards, thinking what_a happy fellow he was, and_how the
business disappointments_of life had been softened by_the_events that
had followed_them._The_future could_not be dark_with_Harriet; before
this_he_had become resigned to his calamity,_bent_his strong mind to
regard it as inevitable;_now there was to_come_happiness with it, and_he
would be more than content,_he thought.

He was soon back in_Suffolk Street._Mr. Wesden_was in the shop talking
to a short, thin man with a_sallow complexion, a hooked nose, bright
black_eyes, and straight hair;_a man_dressed_in black; with_a_rusty
satin stock_of the same colour, secured by an_old-fashioned brooch_of
gold wire, in the shape of_a heart.

"And her name_was_Mattie, you say?"

"That was the name_she called herself, and went always_by in this
house."

"And you don't_know_her_whereabouts?"

"I haven't an idea."

"But you_think she has gone wrong, don't_you?" the man_asked with no
small eagerness.

"Well, I hope not;_but_I think so."

"Who? Mattie!" cried Sidney,_suddenly_thrusting