Chester got away from Lucy and Uncle Gilbert that morning, without betraying his father's secret, which had now also become his own. If his father had kept the secret so long, it was evidently for a purpose; he would try not to be the first to reveal it. He kissed Lucy somewhat hurriedly, she thought, as he left. The sooner he got away the fewer of his strange actions he would have to explain. He did not look back when he walked away for fear that Lucy would be watching him from window or door. He went back to his own lodgings rather more by instinct than by thought. He slipped into his room, looked aimlessly about, then went out again. He must be alone, yet not confined within walls. The park was not far away, but he walked by it also, on, on. This London is limitless, he thought. One could never escape it by walking. He met other men some hurrying as if stern duty called, others sauntering as if they had no purpose in life but quiet contemplation. He met women, and if he could have read through their weary eyes their life's story, he would not perhaps, have thought his own was the most cruel. A little boy was gathering dust from the pavement, and Chester was reminded of that other little fellow's structure which the carriage wheels had demolished. Well, he was under the wheel of fate himself. He had heard of this wheel, but never had he been under it until now! Chester found himself a street or two from the mission office. He would call and perhaps have a talk with Elder Malby. Why had he not thought of that sooner? He quickened his steps, and in a few minutes he was ringing the bell. He heard it tingle within, but no one responded. He rang again, and this time steps were heard coming up from the basement. The housekeeper opened the door. "Good morning," she greeted him with a smile. "Good morning, is Elder Malby in?" "No; none of the elders are in. They are out tracting, I think--but won't you come in?" "No, thank you, I wanted to see Elder Malby." "Well, _he_ might be back at any time--come in and rest. You look tired." "Well--I believe I will." He followed the motherly housekeeper into the office parlor, where she bade him be seated. She excused herself as her work could not be neglected--Would he be interested in the London papers, or the latest _Deseret News_. She pointed to the table where these papers lay, then went about her work. Chester looked listlessly at the papers, but did not attempt to read. Presently, the housekeeper came back. "I'm having a bite to eat down in the dining room. Come and keep me company. The Elders don't eat till later, but I must have something in the middle of the day." Chester went with her into the cool, restful room below, and partook with her of the simple meal. Not having had breakfast, he ate with relish. Besides, there was a spirit of peace about the place. His aching heart found some comfort in the talk of the good woman.