"Bully for you, my girl; come along," said the offerer, and they went across to a gin shop, the doors of which had never once been still; the flashing of their backwards and forward swing beating out the seconds with the regularity of a clock. How bright it was! How full these last few minutes before twelve. The offerer appraised his guest critically, "Sherry!" he ordered, "and the usual--now! my girl, drink it up sharp. The night's young for pleasure yet, but we shall have to turn out and find some other place." Aura looked at him clearly; at the face, not bad in itself, but overlaid with sensuality. "I am not going to drink," she said coldly. "I only came in to see--and I have seen." She turned to go. Luckily for her, his torrent of obscene abuse was interrupted by a general exodus; for suddenly the Town Hall clock boomed, the church bells rang out, the old year passed, the new year began; began with shouts and curses and kisses and laughter. Some one struck up "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot," and a band of perfect strangers to each other, hand-clasped and feeling wildly at each end for further friendship, lurched across the street. A Salvation lass, her face vivid with intent, clutched at Aura's arm. "Don't go with him, my girl--don't--he is the Devil--he is Sin incarnate--he is----" "I am not going," answered Aura in a queer strained voice. "I am in school. I am learning. I want to see for myself." "That was Eve's sin--you are lost--come--come with me." The crowd jostled them apart, jostled Aura into the shadow of a narrow archway. More than one man's face looked into the shadow, spoke, then passed on with a jibe. The streets were beginning to empty; the crowd was dissolving into couples; men and women were hurrying away into the side streets. She must be going also. "Hullo! you young devil! I have got you again, have I?" came a hoarse voice, and a hand clutched at her arm. She wrenched it away, and looked for escape. Beside the low archway rose a flight of steps, above the steps a wider archway. A small door in it stood open. Scarcely thinking what she did, she sprang towards it, set aside a leathern curtain, and for the first time in her life found herself in a church. At least the man would not follow her here. What a quaint little place! It was almost dark, but lights were burning, small twinkling lights set in the form of a star at the further end, and she went forward curiously. The chapel, for it was no more than that, was not quite empty. Here and there among the shadowy chairs some figure--generally two figures together--showed dimly. It must be a Roman Catholic chapel, for that gracious woman's figure crowned with stars uplifted above the sanctuary doors with a child in her arms, must be the Blessed Mother. Aura's heart leapt up to her. That she understood. And what was this at her gracious feet, beneath the five-pointed star of light?