"That's one of the letters," said Mr. Baffall, leaning forward, and tapping it with a finger, "that wants reading between the lines. There is more in it than the mere words--and, according to Mrs. Baffall, it don't bear out what she thought when she saw the girl in London; nor, for the matter of that, does it bear out what I saw. Mr. Purdue, I've got a sneaking feeling that I should like to do something for that girl--young lady, I suppose you'd call her now; and I think that thought's in Mrs. Baffall's mind too." Mr. Purdue looked at his visitor in some perplexity. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand," he said. "Mr. Purdue, sir," went on Baffall solemnly, "when I was in business, if things went very wrong with me, and I didn't quite know where to turn for money or credit, what was the first thing I did?" Mr. Purdue shook his head. "Why, I made believe that I'd got more money than I knew what to do with, and was looking out for investments; or I suggested that business was so flourishing that I really couldn't entertain the idea of taking any more. That was my move--and that's the move in that letter. For all we know, they may be in Queer Street, and yet much too proud to let anybody show 'em the way out." "You distress me greatly," said Mr. Purdue, with a sigh. "What do you suggest should be done?" Baffall shook his head. "Whatever's done must be done delicately," he said. "If me or Mrs. B., or Alice was to go--and Alice would want the carriage--I can understand their backs would be up--and their pride would stand in the way; I was always a bit afraid of that girl myself. But if there was anybody in London--struggling a bit, perhaps, like themselves--it might be a help to the girl, for it seems to me that she must have a pretty slow time of it with that old woman." The Rev. Temple Purdue sat silent for a few moments, thoughtfully biting the end of a pen. He looked up at last, and spoke almost apologetically. "There's Charlie," he said. There seemed to be some understanding between the two men as regarded Charlie; they looked at each other for a moment or two in silence; the rector sighed a little. "Yes, there's Charlie," said Mr. Baffall, a little sternly. "Doing any better?" "I have hopes of him," replied Purdue. "You see, he lost his mother when he was very young, Baffall; we must never forget that. And if he's wild and headstrong--well, that is one of the faults of youth, I suppose. You see--to go to London like that--plunge at once into a medical school--and live in lodgings----" "I see what you're driving at," broke in Baffall. "You think that if he lived with anyone who would keep an eye on him----" "I'm sure he'd do better," exclaimed the other eagerly. "I've thought of it often; but I have no time to go to London myself. He writes for money--and still more money; he sends promises of what he will do, and what he will undo; he's a good boy at heart."