There is no accounting for these interests, or to the events to which they give rise. Sometimes they are pooh-pooh-ed as "romantic," "unnatural," "like a bit in a novel;" and yet they are facts continually occurring, especially to people of quick intuition, observation, and sympathy. Nay, even the most ordinary people have known or heard of such, resulting in mysterious, life-long loves; firm friendships; strange yet often wonderful happy marriages; sudden revolutions of fortune and destiny: things utterly unaccountable for, except by the belief in the inscrutable Providence which "Shapes our ends, Rough-how them as we will." When Hilary left the shop she was startled by a voice at her elbow. "I beg your pardon, but if your way lies up Southampton Row, would you object to give an old woman a share of that capital umbrella of yours?" "With pleasure," Hilary answered, though the oddness of the request amused her. And it was granted really with pleasure; for the old lady spoke with those "accents of the mountain tongue" which this foolish Hilary never recognized without a thrill at the heart. "May be you think an old woman ought to take a cab, and not be intruding upon strangers; but I am hale and hearty, and being only a streets length from my own door, I dislike to waste unnecessary shillings." "Certainly," acquiesced Hilary, with a half sigh: shillings were only too precious to her. "I saw you in the boot shop, and you seemed the sort of young lady who would do a kindness to an old body like me; so I said to myself, 'Ill ask her.'" "I am glad you did." Poor girl! she felt unconsciously pleased at finding herself still able to show a kindness to any body. They walked on and on--it was certainly a long street's length--to the stranger's door, and it took Hilary a good way round from hers; but she said nothing of this, concluding, of course, that her companion was unaware of where she lived; in which she was mistaken. They stopped at last before a respectable house near Brunswick Square, bearing a brass plate, with the words "Miss Balquidder." "That is my name, and very much obliged to you, my dear. How it rains! Ye're just drenched." Hilary smiled and shook her damp shawl. "I shall take no harm. I am used to go out in all weathers." "Are you a governess?" The question was so direct and kindly, that it hardly seemed an impertinence. "Yes; but I have no pupils, and I fear I shall never get any." "Why not?" "I suppose, because I know nobody here. It seems so very hard to get teaching in London. But I beg your pardon."