“It is a pity that it took him so long to learn that ‘gentleness is best,’” she said, sadly. “Poor old father would have been far happier if he had learned it earlier. We would have all been happier in our life in the country.” They sat and talked a little while longer, then retired for a few hours’ rest before daylight. When Marion awoke in the morning she found that Ralph had already bought the morning papers, and, as usual, she glanced them over before eating her breakfast. “Oh, how kind the critics are to me,” she said as she read the notice of her singing in the _Star_. “And how dreadfully they speak of Carlotta, saying that her voice has lost its freshness, and all that sort of thing, I can hardly blame the woman for disliking me.” “Well, she has let her professional jealousy go too far,” said Ralph, hotly. “When she tries such tricks as she did last night it is high time she was halted.” “I guess Mr. Graham will read her a lecture to-day,” said Marion, slowly, “It remains to be seen what effect it has upon her.” “Here is a dreadful thing,” said Dollie, who was glancing over a part of the paper. “A young girl has just been rescued from an opium den. It seems she was stolen by Chinamen and kept a prisoner in one of their houses.” “Oh, that sort of thing happens every day,” said her husband, quickly. “There’s a tremendous traffic in ‘white slaves,’ as they call them. Those yellow devils have a mania for white girls in this country.” “I think it is horrible,” said Marion, shuddering. “It is almost incredible that such horrors can exist in a Christian country.” “Nevertheless they do,” said Ralph, a little absently. He was busy at that moment reading the rest of the article. Suddenly he almost sprang from his chair at the breakfast table, and a look of horror overspread his countenance. “Quick, Marion! Describe that fellow that you saw last night on the steps. Was he small and black, and was his face all scars, and was there anything about him that looked like a Chinaman?” Marion thought a little before she answered. “He certainly was small and had a yellowish skin, and his face was all scars, and his eyes black and beady. Come to think of it, he did look like a Chinaman, Ralph, but for goodness sake do tell us what is the matter!” she said, earnestly. “That fellow is wanted by the police,” was Ralph Moore’s prompt answer. “He is a sort of an agent for rich Celestials in the city, he goes around trying to steal young girls, and they say that in several instances he has been successful.” Both Dollie and Marion stared at him in astonishment for a minute, then Marion’s gray eyes flashed ominously, and her lips curved in a smile. “Well, I pity him if he ever tries to steal me,” she said, decidedly, “for I have no special liking for ‘chow-chop-suey.’” CHAPTER VI. A GLIMPSE BEHIND THE SCENES.