abode; and neither of them had the slightest idea that it was within a stone's-throw of Frank Raynor. On the third day after settling in it, Rosaline and Frank had met in Mark Street: and he then learnt the news of their recent movements.
Mrs. Bell was at her old employment this evening when Frank entered—knitting. Lifting her eyes to see who had come in, she took the opportunity to snuff the candle near her, and gazed at Frank over her spectacles.
"Hey-day!" she cried. "I thought it was Rosaline." This was the first time Frank had seen her alone. During all his previous visits Rosaline had been present. Rosaline had gone a long way that afternoon, Dame Bell proceeded to explain, as far as Oxford Street, and was not back again yet. The girl seemed to have some crotchet in her head, she added, and would not say what she went for. Frank was glad of her absence, crotchet or no crotchet: he felt an invincible distaste to naming the