her father's sinking into a further degradation, which she was bound to hinder if she could. But before she could answer his string of inventive sentences, delivered with as much glibness as if they had been learned by rote, he added promptly—
"Where do you live, Mirah?"
"Here, in this square. We are not far from the house."
"In lodgings?"
"Yes."
"Any one to take care of you?"
"Yes," said Mirah again, looking full at the keen face which was turned towards hers—"my brother."
The father's eyelids fluttered as if the lightning had come across them, and there was a slight movement of the shoulders. But he said, after a just perceptible pause: "Ezra? How did you know—how did you find him?"
"That would take long to tell. Here we are at the door. My brother would not wish me to close it on you."
Mirah was already on the door-step, but had her face turned towards her father, who stood below her on the pavement. Her heart had begun to beat faster with the prospect of what was coming in the presence of Ezra; and already in
