[All Rights Reserved ] LIZA. A ROMANCE OF LONDON SLUMS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2302, 14 April 1898, Page 41

[All Rights Reserved ] L I Z A. A ROMANCE OF LONDON SLUMS.

By "ALIEN,"

Author of "A Daughter of the Kiug," "The Majesty of Man," "Iv Gulden Shackles," &c.

But Liza didn't believe ifc. She leant rather to the supposition that the alley had been called after another old boy, who had not been represented as wearing silk stockings and lace ruffles, but who prow-led around seeking whom he might devour. For where, she asked, was trace of elm or oak? Twisted, broken, or smoked chimneys instead of green branches shut off the light of the sky ; nowhere among the tall grimy tenements Avas trace of ancient glory. Instead Avas foul air, gruesome sights, hideous sounds. By day the cries of costers, moans of asthmatieal organs, and the shrill shrieks of elf-like children rose on any stray breeze that had lost its way from the far-off moorland or the sea ; by night " Gawd! '' said Liza, to whom strong language had been familiar from babyhood, "the plice'has its right nime. But I don't need to be like 'urn other gerls," she added with fierce passion, her dark eyes gloAvering from under her dark-knit eyebrows at a group of girls flinging their filthy ragged skn-ts in Avild rhythmic gestures* as they danced on the slimy pavement to the tune of a street organ, their odd serious abandonment and pathetic acceptation of the present pleasure telling their tale of hopelessness of other, joys. 'I don'b need to be like 'em. an' I won't be."

Liza had brought with her from somewhere an instinct of cleanliness— perhaps from the da7f of the creation of woman — and the consequence was that she blossomed in Old Nick's Walk like a stray daisy on a dunghill, and made herself ridiculous and unpopular, disobliging the uncle who had given her shelter for 16 years in two rooms in the darkest tenement in Old Nick's Walk, and had done nothing to deserve the notice his niece thrust upon him ; he cobbled decently all day, and drank freely most of the night, and it was an evil fate that the girl's nonsensical washings and scrubbings should make him an object of curiosity to his neighbours. He impressed this fact upon Liza with due force whenever he gathered himself together. At least he hod done so till six months ago, when she retaliated in a« manner that left the misunderstood cobbler scrutinising his black eye in extreme agitation, and using a bad word o gainst the inventor of rolling pins.

But Liza was fiercely wretched. She felt herself " out of it, sum 'ow " — tricked and cheated by Pate we should call it. She was instinctively clean and honest, and Life had cast her lot among dirt and dishonesty She pined for the solitude of streams and mountains ; her eyes yearned for the sight of birds on the wing, and wild flowers in green meadows; her fle&h craved the daintinesses and softnesses of gentlewomen — and Old Nick's Walk envu-oned her. Sixteen summers had marked her springs b}- a brighter light above the black chimney stack*, and sixteen winters of dingy drift's that out m the fields was snow. But because we must Always weave into life a shadowy outline oi our heart's dream — must, because it hurts too much to be wholly dumb, give some distorted account of our heart's desire, Liza stamped her individuality upon the two rooms that were her only canvas ; scrubbed, polished, dusted, and brushed them till they bore no resemblance to any other rooms in the house, and Mrs Grubbings, the landlady, with that complacent appropriation of good <not entirely confined to Old Nick's WalE, wanted

Chapter I. Liza. LD NICK'S Walk offered a suggestion not at all at variance Avith the locality.. Rumour had it that in the days of peri'Avigs and knee breeches the ■ Walk had been a leafy avenue, and had derived its name from Sir Nicholas Somebody, Avhose •favourite promenade it Avas.

to raise the rent; a fact wh;ch xneonscd Liza's undo so iiiuch that he threatened to "chuck" his niece out "flosh an' bones, body an' soul, if she couldn't make herself like other people.

But Liza asked " Gawd, how could she? " And perhaps He knew. Knew also how she came there with her clean body and mind, and why — for Liza didn't — she lacked adaptability, that essential for success, and loathed the smell of gin. The women regarded the fact as of painful import, for gin was the children's raUK in Old Nick's Walk, and ribald songs that made Liza sick were the lullaby of infants. The gas flared over the gin palace at the corner; two old women with white hair streaming fought each other undisturbed in a scientific and triendly way ; the elfish crowd of children danced faster to the organgrinder's tune, the' man watching the rhythmic movement uf dirty hands and feet with a half smile of appreciation and comprehension passing over his dark Italian face. Above the rakish sir and patter of ill-shod feet a shrill or harsh voice made itself heard as blows fell from fists hardened by cruelty — and still Liza stood in the doorway isolated by lack of sympathy with the&e various pastimes. Merciful twilight hid the unsightly litter of the alley, a "laughing star" shone in a patch of silver over the foof nearest the sky ; the organ hud ceased, and the children scattered, some drawn by the rival attraction of the "wilk" man at the corner; the deep, resonant, deliberate tones of Big Ben reveberated through Westminster nine times, then someone bumped against Liza and said:

" [ beg your pardon," and lifting his hat mechanically, passed and slowly ascended the grimy stairs.

The cultiu-ed voice, the astounding fact that a " born gentleman " had raised his hat to her so electrified and petrified Liza that &he could only turn and sUre stupidly after the ascending figure, noting unconsciously its slender giaceful proportions, and the white hand that earned a Gladstone bag. At a turn in the stairs lie disappeared, but her own sensations kept Liza rooted to the spot. It was as though an echo had reached her from that world outside these narrow courts, the world of which she had been dreaming, where the streets were broad and the parks gay with flowers : where well-dressed mea spoke in low tones to lovely women. "I beg your pardon ! "--and a bow! A voice like that at Mrs Grubbings's doorway ! A born gentleman go up Mrs Grubbings's stairs !

Liza followed his example. Reaching the second, landing she stopped and looked The attic stairs were dark as customary, there was nothing to show that anything unusual had occurred How dark it was for a gentleman accustomed to brilliantly-lighted hallways — horribly dark. The mingled odour of washing and fried liver and onions mounted from the basement where Mrs Crabbings dwelt, but there, was no sign of thai lady bent on doing the lionouis to her distinguished visitor. He would have to feel with his'feet coming down. " Liza entered a room, crossed it to an inner apartment and carefully lit her own lamp, her pride and one glory, a vanity in pink glass warranted to explode at any unforeseen moment, but "which, while it lasted, like many another vanity, cast a roseate hue. ' It brought the flush oi sunset to Lizu's sunless room, tinted the bare boards and patchwork quilt, and toned down the complexion of a gaudy society belle that hung upon the wall, who was* represented by the artist as giggling and ogl.ng sideways her youthful Vnight, who kissed her hand humbly, and upon bended knee. Liza carried her lamp to a small dressing table, and placed it w that the reflection fell in a pink flood upon the mirror. Then she bent forward into the gleam. It flushed the sallow skin with the warm blush of life softened the sadness of her large dark eyes, filled out with soft shadows the hollow cheeks, glinted ruddily upon the dead black hair, made rosy the angry pathetic mouth. Liza smiled. She knew the illusions of her magic lamp. It made her young with the youth of the well-fed and happy ; made her beautiful like the great ladies with colour. If she, were fattened and dressed in silk and laces, with jewels on her neck, and sat under rose-shaded lamps, wouri shs A. youth's voice in song broke her reverie, making her flush a natural scarlet with rage. The words floated melodiously from the street beneath : I knows a little doner, I'm about to own her, She's a-goin to marry nie. First she &aid she wouldn't, Then she said she couldn't.

Thea she murmured, '" Well, I'll see." Oh, Liza, sweet Liza, if you die an old maid you've only got yourself to blime. Oh, Liza, dear Liza, 'ow'd you like 'Awldns for your other nime ?

Lizaanade a movement as though to throw the lamp at the unseen songster, recollected, paused irresolutely, and with unnecessary care placed it on the bracket on the landing so that the gentleman might descend in rosy light. A superfluous attention, for he had thrown himself upon the narrow hard bed in Airs Grubbmgs's attic and said with a sigh of the singer whom Liza had Scorned : " Happy beggar ! "

Chapter 11. The Toff.

'• The Toff," as Mrs Grubbings designated her attic lodger, was a man of little importance. Ho paid his iwo-and-six a week for his room with punctilious regularity, and as regularly went his way — which apparently was clown the stairs in the morning, " with a roll of on per in his 'and," and as regularly back in the evening, still carrying the MS. " 'E's down on 'is luck," she remarked to Liza the day aftei Ins arrival. But the vicinity of Old Nick's saw tdo many in a like case for Mrs Grubbings to be cither interested or annoyed at the fact. The Toff's state was in no way remarkable. British life and death took many strange shapes in the district. One person no more than another called for commiseration. Nothing short of a murder or an exceptionally sensational suicide stirred the local pulse.

The butcher at the corner who inflicted decapitation upon his wife on his own chopping-block earned a passing distinction — there was a boom in steaks for a day ; then the creenarocer's boy brought in ve^e-

tables by the simpio fact of invdgjhig Sir infant friond into the donkey-house and thef« killing him to get his hand in, sewing him up in a potato sack. This being somewhat* unique in the history of child-crime, threw the butcher into the shade.

Shattered ideals and hopeless endeavour were ills too abstract for comprehension, and decidedly too un-Old Nick nice for sympathy: They were evils without the consequences and recognition of the law, where the women slunk closer to the wall and the men drew down then- hats at the approach of a '"Peeler," and many dared not venture out till darkness covered them. A man who could go forth boldly in the daylight and carry his belongings openly was an object of more astonishment than pity.

He certainly had his pride, distinguishable under his calmness, for he made no complaints and asked no favours, but went out in spotless linen and well-brushed suit, and came home quietly with an impenetrable gaze and firmly-shut mouth.

Liza, watching, was the only one who neticecl that his step dragged on the stair and that his hand pressed the balustrade as if for support.

It had never ceased to be a wonder to her that he had come to live there at all ; it quenched her delight that he should suffer. "Gawd," she said, "it's killin' 'im, that's what it's doin' — killin 3 'im ! "

Liza could not accept the fact prosaically. Her imagination being active, she diagnosed the case thoroughly and understood all its symptoms. This man did not belong to the iespectable class merely ; his manners had the solt courtesy of the aristocrat, and the longer Liza considered the matter the more she wondered. That a man who should be admired by gentlefolks should be here was most unsuitable. Surely he must have some independent property ; yet if so, how could he dispense Vith not only elegance, but with the decencies of life? " 'E sets 'is teeth 'ard/' eammented Liza, watching him depart one morning. Since the hour of his first arrival she had avoided meeting him. A poignant sense of her own deficiencies made her shy. She could not risk the chance of those gentle grey eyes changing in expression to ridicule as they '■esled upon her. She was sure that he had no low connections anywhere ; and -with a gulp, partly of anger and partly sorrow, she said : " Mrs Grubbing ought to be ashamed of 'erself, thet's wot she ought. She never goes nigli "im to tidy up 'is room — ■'because " — another gulp — " because 'c can't pye." Which proves that Liza had watched to some purpose. lam reluctant to admit that she had peeped through the keyhole and the crack ot the door. As yet she had taken no further liberty, which meant" something, foi* the- Toff never -locked his door. It was open at all hours, and the room might have been investigated freely; but Liza*ha~d her' fine feelings, and limited -her • indulgence in curiosity. biitT she saw enough 'through' the ct-ackto make hei heart burn— a 'handsome, fair head bowed on a shapely white hani, over a chaos of cracked and dirty dishes. The melodious and seductive tenor voice cajoled in vain that evening from the street :

" . . If you die an old maid you've only got yourßelf to blimc. Oh, Liza"

" Shet up you fool," Liza had returned from the window, and slammed it down.

From behind her partially-closed door liiza watched the Toff this morning as he descended the stairs. He looked straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be seeing things -afar off, his lips pressed firmly together. A condemned man might have looked sd on his way to execution. A stray gleam had staggered into the dirty passage ; it was early summer in the parks, and in the country the may was in bloom. Liza peered out cautiously and watched the object of her interest pause for a moment in the doorway, as if irresolute, glance to the right and left, then stride off hurriedly as though with sudden resolution. The gill then came out of ambush into the open, and marched atticward with determination depicted in every inch of the slight, straight figure. At the Toff's door she halted, looked back, nervously over her shoulder, . stretched out her hand, and shoved the doer open with a movement as though knocking down an enemy. Then with another hurried glanca she- made bold to enter .the room. But onl/ a step. She was arrested at that. With lie - hands on her hips she took a leisurely survey. The narrow bed was unmade — the mattress and pillows flat and hard-looking. A small window thick with dust was decorated by a dirty rag called by courtesy a curtain. The table was littered with a confusion of dirty dishes and papers, beside which was a smoked-out fire.

Accustomed as Liza was to sights hire these, her sense of orderliness received a new shock ; but this room, associated with him, brought all her humours, good and bad, with a rush. A loud snort of mingled disgust and distress relieved them. Then she. started guiltily ; she thought someone had stirred in the room, but it was only the flapping window rag. Emboldened, she went farther in and stood before the papers on the table. Were these the papers that he .seemed to set such store by — that he carried backwards and forwards every day? -U-er eyes fell upon a headline. " A Day and a Night in the Slums/ with the last "two words crossed through and "' Hell " substituted. Liza started back with a quick blush, abashed at the discovery thai, she was prying, overstepping the legitimate object of her intrusion — to tidy things up a bit. La3 r ing a sheet of blotting paper carefully over the written page, so that she might be tempted to read no more of a gentleman's private business, she gathered together all the dirty cups and plates and took them down to her room to wash. ReUirning, she arranged them neatly m the cupboard, and on a small tablecloth — one of those she reserved for " company " — neatly set the table for one. Then she bumped up bed oncl pillows and departed hurriedly. " Thet 'ull do for now ; I don't want 'im to wonder."Closing the door carefully, she descended the stairs with quickly-beating lieai't.

The voice of a coster came from the street, " Caul-i-flow-er ; fine large cauli-flower. Two a penny ! Steetions ! Beet — beetbeet ' " A musical voice which, made a chant ot, business,

Liza lifted her bead and stood in strained suspense. "Ctu-h-tiow-ef! caul-i-flower 1 " reiterated the insinuating voice, as though it said, "Come, dear, come dovn, dear." And Liza went, under protest and with a toss of her dark cuvly head. Standing dejectedly by -his v barrow, the young coster started v.v» anira&tion and life at- sight of Liza. He was 'of slender, • supple build ; bis neat, jacket buttoned acrobs a broad chest ; a crimson scarf folded round his' throat, set off a bright, alert, face and hair as dark and curly as Liza's. His eyes were blue and •clear and honest as a boy's, with the long, silky lashes of a girl. The brown eyes and those of blue regarded each other steadily. • . „. "Did ver read* 1 about me in the piper.' asked Oock without the superfluous preliminaries of a good day to you. Liza shook her head. Jock seated himself on the handle of the barrow and swung one leg. *' I Avas run in for obstructin' the traffic." Liza looked " tell me." " '. Explain yourself, young man/ said the magistrate. > - ' " ' It was this way, yer 'oner,' I ses. I went into a public to get a light, and* when ■I- come out agen the "beak" 'ad got a 'old of my barfer. ■ , • '141I 4 1 waxtfe^jer' name an" address,' ses 'c. •"Wot for? 1 - ses I. "'For obstructin'- of- the traffic,' ses 'c. "'Wot traffic?' .ses I. -There ain't no. obstruction. ' " ' It's moved on now,' ses 'c. " ' Then 'ow can 1 bs obstructin' it? ' ses

•' 'Is 'onor laughed. " "Til let you off with a caution this time, ;es 'c. .'Thank yer 'oner/ ses- 1. An' 'ere I aw. Three <t penny stertians Beet — beet --beet ! " . "Jock 'Awkins/' said Liza sternly, if you get into disgrace don't never foine '.ere with your oawli-flowers, for I wouldn't eat 'em ; nor yet your beet." "An' if 1 don't, -Liza — an' -I shan't, don't you be afraid. Li^a, I'm goin' to buy a 'donkey.' 1 . " I shouldn't," answered Liza. iou don't need two in your business." Jock continued to kick his leg. He cast a lingering reproachful look at Liza. Jock's feelings made him speak low. "Have these violets?" he said, selecting a bunch from otliers among the vegetables. He thrust them into her hand, and her fin.gers closed upon them reluctantly. "It smells like the country," she said in a more friendly way than she had yet .«pokcn. "I like the smell, of the bairer'.' "' When I've got the dornkey I'll take yer to Ampstead if yer like, Liza, or Eppin' Forest, or " " Yer needn't maice no arringements for me, thank yer! " said Liza loftily, and went in. • • •

-Jock looked after her wist'ully for a moment, then," excellent fellow and patient, grasped" the handles of his bairow and set forth to improve his condition. Liza went softly and' swiftly upstairs, and placing the lolets in water earned the glass and pet it on 'he cloth spread for the Toffs tea

Chapter 111. " A Day and a Night in Hell."

The Toff shuddered as the odour of Old Nick's Walk assailed his- nostrils ; hv mouth set like a vire. He seemed in no way concerned in what was passing atound him, yet he heard the harsh voices on the landing, the organ in the street playing " 'Ome, sweet l ome " — for it was oof an edu-yttd org<in, and perceptibly dropped its h'? — raid sawwithout looking Mrs Orubbings's red fat face and cunning beady eyes. No word of recognition passed ; his hand trembled as he opened the door; a mist obscured his vision, he staggered into a chair and dropped his face upon his outspread palms. Half starved hands they looked, the thin delicate wrists fcdg-id with frayed hren, edged again with threadbare cloth.

He sat quite fctill without movement or sc.und, buy the droop of the tall shoulders, th: baggy r et of trovise'-s. the thin sLoes and faded socks told their tale without words.

' He rmcrht have been a s-tatuc of Despair, so still he sat. At lengfh ha looked up, his j^'ey eyes dim with retrospection, his eye- ' brows drawn together with pain. By accident his glance fell upon the violets, seeing without comprehension . instinctively his eyes were hc.^ by the bright coioui spot, and then the biain was drawn to observation, .'ihe dull stupid staio lightened, Hickers of iiitolligence passed o\ cr the v» or \ expressive fa:e, half fleams of surprise, pleasure, wonder, shimmerel over Iho dea .jn«s o' countenance. ■" Violets ! ' he muttered, as though one long shut in durkne^ said " Light ! " " Violets — here ! "

He rose wearily and weal cJo^cj From the jfliweis his eyes vvaudered to the y\hit&

cloth and neat arrangements for his ter from the tidy table to the tidy bed.

"So," he said, with , a .faint half smile, " there is mercy in Hades."

Mechanically he followed out the suggestion of the spread cloth — boiled water and made his tea. After he had eaten and drunk, he turned tohis covered MSS. sheets, "A Day and a Night in Hell."- -

In a doubtful way lie drew the sheet to him. hesitated, glanced again and again at the violets, and bent to -his task. When Liza peeped in through the door crack at 10 o'clock she saw his pen moving swiftly over the paper, and the little cracked vase of purple blossoms close to the ink bottle. The girl barely past her childhood, born and bred in neglect and ignorance, and the man who a year ago would not have deigned a glance a i her poor offering, had met in silent understanding and sympathy. The big brown eyes stnt condolpncp through the crack, and communicated a little hope to him from an unknown souvjc. A sullen smile lit Liza's eyes :or an instant. She -;iad obeyed the woman's instinct to minister,. taking the man's, acceptr nee as reward. Even in Old Nick's Walk a . decrepit -semblance of sacrifice - limped among the shadows to martyrdom. The man inside the door, and the girl out-, side, were roused , from their avecations ; Jock's melodious voice rote abov- the confused noises of the street, with hints of passion and regret vibrating through, the Cock-, ney twang : - I'll sing thee songs of Araby, And tales of fair Cashmere — Wild tales to cheat thee of a sigh, Or charm thee to a tear ; And- dreams of delight shall on thee break, And rainbow visions rise, And all my soul shall strive to wake Sweet ■wonder, in thine eyes.

The loff lifted his head with a sharp contraction of the features, dropped Irr pen and went over to the window. Leaning with folded arms upon the sill he heard the song through, but his down-bent eye; lost -the sight. of Jock's melodramatic attiUide on the curb, the flaring gas jets became softlyshaded lamps : a woman, delica co! feature and movement, robed in gleaming white blotted out the slatterns on the pavement; the fragrance of flowers was wafted to him where he stood. He turned : ah, yes — Mrs Grubbings's --'iolets— and " A Daj and " a Night in Hell .' "

Liza crept to her own room, and leaning from the window culled down in subdued tones, "Shut 'up, you fool!" And Jock shut up- -gallantly and with seb -denial, for the only time, Jock wasn't a costermonger was when he was s singer. He looked up eagerly for reward oi sacrifice — beinpr a man. But the window was quietly closed. After an indefinite waiting, tilled 'with tho reflection that courting Liza wasn't all #eer and skittles, Jock went slowly honid, humming lay way x of self-encouragement : -/- At first she said .she wouldn't, Then she said she couldn't, Then she murmured, " Well, I'll see." The next morning Ljza watched the Toff go down the stair with a roll o p MS. in his hand and a bunch of violets in i« buttonhole. She flushed w.th pleasure, and in the privacy behind her own kitchen door, then v/ent upstairs and was busy thero till noon, with the result that when her unue returned there was no dinner ready. * ' I'm a-turnin' ovei a new leaf, thet's wot 1 m doin'," Liza responded in answer to his forcible remonstrance* at the unr:rt( edented event. " I've been dcun' things fo' them as knows a ciean mom when they sees it. T don't fancy alters throwm pearls afore ••wine."

Her uncle then said — but I don't think Vl] repeat vhat he said; he wjsn t a )Jce old man. The sr^inie. f.iza p'lved of hiu'-efjti-se-.'k

pur. new ssest into her days. Tin Toff's room became the neatest room in the establishment. ; Jock's buttonholes found a d.iily destination he did not dream of, but ilthough they did not perform the mission Jock intended, they had one nevertheless.

.Meeting !Mrs Grubbjrsgs upon tin, stairs one morning, the Toff thanked" her courteously ior her care ci' him. " Lor ! " said Mrs Grubbing^ with a grin, " 'taint me wot doe? it ; Joif is too short " She meant to trouble about other people's comfort. She challenged hei attic lodger v. ith her beedr eyes. '" JS T ot. you I" he answered slowly ; then to whom".' " 'it mLjfut be Liza,"' interjected the weman. " Liza? "

'" Aye, it'll be Liza, fur s.ire ; an uncomfortable gall is Liza. She ain't never 'ajrpy. she ain't, if she isn't turnin' things upside down She. ain't satisfied with, a spring clean — 'as one of "cv own most days m the year."

"Liza is your daughter?" ."Liza isn't J" responded, Mrs Grgbbjpgs

in a tone (hab left her hnubv no dn^bt '-vl>atever as to her unfeigned .."Then who is Liza?"

" Liza? Oh, Liza's the nicre cf a lodger ; lived in the floor beneath you 17 y^ars."

" Ah ! " The, IVff 's grey s-s twinkled. " Sw'ither crumped 'quarters ; <:.--<.«ri't seem acchmatiscd yet. Good naming."

" Skingle short ! " said .'.irs (irubbings, and wentrout for her half-quarfcn of gin, which she fnund agreed with her best taken in hourly doses. "Bo it's Liza, is it?" >>-.'iioquiserl the Toff as he stepped out 'urifkJy. J roust know Liza. I owe tor a debt."

But Liza proved difficult to know, i'he Toff was alert, bat Liza was dexterous, and dodged bls\goin*s and comings like a rab horse dodging tl« % traffic. The. attic room "' smelt 'omey," as Liza put it, with a lavendar sprig or bunch of wallflower mingling -with the odour of clean boards and fragrant tea. At this time Jock's heart was lightened by, Liza's gracious acceptance of his morning gift. His cry never failed to bring Liza, to the door. Long afterwards Jock was heard to say, " When I first 'card who got my violets I could 'aye punched 'is bloomin' 'cad, I could."

The Toff tried many experiments to bring Liza --to light. The first was a rose laid at her door ; the second a 'book with Charles Smith's compliments, and hopes that Liza would enjoy the reading. Liza wore the rose and read ,the book, but made no advance. Fate .in a cynical mood took the matter in hand one day, and literally threw Liza into the Toff's arms.

The boys in the street — between whom and Liza waged an eternal war — had caught- up Jock's song, and had Avorked the girl to a fit of desperation on this particular noonday by a reiteration of the- chorus. ' " 'O,w would you like 'Orkins for your other niine? "

At length, furious, with flying hair and blazing eyes, Liza fiew down the stairs flourishing a short-handled broom, and in her blind fury was in the clasp of the Toff before she discovered that slie had mistaken her idol for her enemy. The man held the struggling girl.

" Gently ! ", he s>aid quietly. *' What's the matter? Who are you? " Then with sudden animation, " ifot Liza? !J

She gave him a. despairing, agonising look and tore herself from his arms and flew up the stairs, slamming the door behind her.

Charles Smith gazed after her in astonished silence, then, "So that's Liza ! "

He smiled to himseF as he ascended the stairs. List's door was fast shut He glanced at it, and. went. on with instinctive courtesy." "Young .^ry," he 'said, rubbing his head where she had cracked it , and then entering iiis room its tidiness stiuck him anew. He laid a newspaper down on the t able beside 'the flower vase! "So that's Liza!-'' he remarked again. " Quee sort of jririisfuririg angel ; t good muscles! " and rubbed' his head again. " Passionate, sensitive, intuitive'," he reflected. "How did she know these sort of tilings made al>. the diffelence? "

These sert of things being Lima's handiwork.

He had foraed a bivin picture that did ' not correspond with th*. actual girJ ] A long, deep, quivering sob sounded through the floor. The Toff paled. Another and another. He f lanced down between his knees and his sensitive mouth quivered. "Liza's crying. Don cry. iittxe girl," as* trough Liza were there. But the distressing sounds continue I

'" T didn't know these sort of people cried like that,; I thought they howled," he said. And the "next minute he was knocking at Liza's door. Knocking twice and receiving no answer, he opened the door and went in. Liza lay full length upon the white boards, her dark hair covering her hidden face and arms, her body heaving convulsively.

" There, come ; I'm surprised at you, Liza," said the Toff lamely, standing awkwardly just inside the door. But Liza sobbed on. " Stow that ! " said the Toff, descending to the vernacular, in a wild hope of being better understood.

Liza didn't " stow it,'* so he quickly crossed the room, stooped down, and lifting Liza gently in this arms, carried her to his attic By the time he got there he discovered he was carrying a young woman. His clasp relaxed, his manner became more deferential, his pale face flushed slightly as he made her comfortable in a canvas chair.

The girl's breast rose and fell above the sfriaining breath ; her head was turned aside in shame, showing the delicately-rounded neck with that tender, fair skin so often seen in the London slums — hinting at gentle ancestry.

" Poor child," murmured the man, and busied himself making some tea. When made he offered a cup to Liza and took one himself, all in such a natural and take-it-for granted way that Liza regained her composure. The tears had left dark circles under the large eyes and washed away their anger. The Toff wondered at the pathos of the drooping lips. ' I'm so sorry," the girl faltered. 'Vm net.'' lespondcd the man. "I'm uiv imidi "blutd Io you. If it hadn't been for tif.it luck;- arrvjent I'm afraid the pleasure of meeting you would have been indefinitely deferred.''

She looked at him wonderingly. " Pleasure of meeting her "' after that exhibition ! She hui been hiding herself, her ugliness, and insignificance away out of sight for i&r.v of his scorn ; and had met him after all at her rarest and worst flis musical voice and choice words charmed her ear, hun^rj r for harmony.

" Indefinitely deferred : " she echoed, for the pleasure of it. "Pie tnok it for h reply "jf thought so So ] have intruded. 1

want 3"our personal friendship. I am your ckbiov olreadv, but"

" 7 know ! "' inten-upted Liza incredulously

f-T5 would not hear her meaning. " You have an art of knowing. Liza." be icplietl. deles mined to remove her hostility "Yon knei, how I loathed this roonij and ins da it bearable.'"

"Wot made yon come?" asked Liza, her pent-up curiofity encouraged into words by his lone. " Needs must— yon know, little girl ! " H%face took on its hud look, he gulped ltt* fax iken tooif Uaa's «n;".£tj- cup.. It was

such a new experience to be waited on that Liza blushed wjth pleasure, ielt awkwardly, self-conscious. Gentlemen in great houses waited on lacifes so. But 'the Toff was preoccupied, and did not notice the flush. " Tlow did you know I wasn't comfortnlile? " he a_.ked abruptly. " Peeped through the crack ! " " Ah ! " He didn't seem offended. " It was good of you to care/ he added. '' The game didn't seem worth playing out ; I had decided not, anyhow, that evening you brought the first violets. You see, child, I was new at the science of negation ; it mado a coward of me. Hang it, yes ! " he reiterated, as though contradicting some thought ; " why shirk the truth ? I was afraid." Liza's face softened. She bent forward. " I'to afraid sometimes ; I was just now." "You?" yhe nodded her head, resting on her hands, her dark eyes holding the grey ones. '• Of whom? " " Nobody," she answered with proud scorn ; " but of things."

" I understand. It was things frightened me!" ' "Wot things?" 'Disgrace, excommunication, loneliness." She knew of but one disgrace, buVit hurt her to associate it with him. "Not gaol?" ' •* -' '

" Not gaol! " he answered quickly.

She sighed an audible relief. He smiled and sat before the table and opened the newspaper.

" I'm working- out my own salvation," he said, " with your help. See there, I wrote it. It opened a* door for me — a way of e&cape. The violets did it child. Take the paper to your room and, read it. Go now; and, Liza, don't cry — there's nothing worth it — not AV,orth a good woman's tears."

. (To he concluded next week )