notepaper and an envelope. “Without much thought, she wrote nearly three pages, folded the letter, addressed it with a name only: “Mr. Kirkwood.” Sidney’s address she did not know; her father had mentioned Red Lion Street, that was all. She did not even know whether he still worked at the old place, but in that way she must try to find him. She cloaked herself, took her umbrella, and went out.
At a corner of St. John’s Square she soon found an urchin who would run an errand for her. He was to take this note to a house that she indicated, and to ask if Mr. Kirkwood was working there. She scarcely durst hope to see the messenger returning with empty hands, but he did so. A terrible throbbing at her heart, she went home again.
In the evening, when her father returned, she surprised him by saying that she expected a visitor.
“Do you want me to go out of the way?” he asked, eager to submit to her in everything.
“No. I’ve asked my friend to come to Mrs. Holland’s. I thought there would be no great harm. I shall go down just before nine o’clock.”
“Oh no, there’s no harm,” conceded her
