"But I feel sure, Mrs. Perks, I have not been mistaken in my estimate of your sound common-sense. Let me tell you that this _lady_ has preserved my life--yes, Mrs. Perks, my life, and my purse. There are, I may say, other reasons for my bringing her here, but that I think should suffice for you. She has saved my life, Mrs. Perks. You will be so good therefore as to send something to eat, and a bottle of wine here, and to prepare the young lady's room." "Oh, Mr. Bartons, so you _was_ in danger! I know'd it. I felt sure of it." She pressed the candlestick she carried so close to her that for a moment her curl papers were in imminent danger of conflagration. "Didn't I see a windin' sheet in the wick o' the candle? didn't I 'ear the 'owlin' of a dog? Yes, Mr. Bartons, I did, and wot's more, when I tossed a coin to see if it was true, it came up 'eads, which, as is well-known, means death." "Well, I am really very sorry to be the cause of dispersing such overwhelming and convincing phenomena, Mrs. Perks; but, as you see, I'm alive, and what's more I am exceedingly hungry. Now run along, there's a good soul, and let us have something to eat." With a final wave of her candlestick, Mrs. Perks retreated, muttering, "If you was a kinder-'earted sort, Mr. Bartons, I could understand it; but you ain't. It's well-known as a flint's putty to you, and I'm puzzled at your goin's on, I am. Kindness--no, don't tell me; it ain't no kindness. She ain't got no weddin'-ring neither. But food and drink they wants anyhow, so food and drink they must 'ave, I suppose." Mr. Barton poked the remnant of the fire. There was an unpleasant expression in his eye, as he looked at the exhausted woman before him. Mrs. Perks was unusually trying to-night. Miriam was leaning back now. Her eyes were closed and her head drooped. She was an intensely pitiable object. But there was no pity in Mr. Barton's expression as he looked at her--no glimmer of it. He was scrutinising her searchingly, cruelly. His gaze was something more than intense. She woke with a start. "Don't speak," he said, as he saw her lips part. "Not a word--you are much too weak to talk. After you have had something, then I'll talk to you." She obeyed. She felt as if all power of resistance of mind or body were leaving her. He looked at her critically again. How wasted she was! The cheeks were completely sunken. The lips were blue rather than red. Her whole expression was one of weariness. Yet withal it was a beautiful face--it had been of surpassing beauty. Intellectual, too, and refined in every line. And Barton had studied many faces in his life--and he saw more in this one than was apparent to the casual observer. He rubbed his hands in satisfaction at the result of his inspection. Indeed, he could not repress an audible expression of it--a kind of fiendish chuckle.