"Tell me all you know, Reynolds," she said, fixing her clear grey eyes on him; "don't keep anything back. I am quite prepared, for I feel sure all will come right." And then Reynolds told her, first of all looking round to see if any one should be listening. "He is staying at 63 Dutton Street," he whispered. "63 Dutton Street!" she exclaimed, and then checked herself. "Why, that is where Mrs. Coates lives!" in a lower voice. "Yes, he is lodging with her." "Well! well!" She hardly knew what to say. Surely God had led Ralph there--but why?--why? "Why? Why?" kept repeating through her brain as she went about her work. That morning she received a letter from Bessie, in which that young lady said: "When are you coming to see me? Couldn't you come this afternoon?" "Yes, I will," she said to herself. "Bessie's brain is younger than mine, and quicker. Perhaps she can tell me what I ought to do." When Phebe knew of the intended visit, she said: "Well, I am glad! I do believe you are improving in your old age. Be sure and tell Bessie she has my permission to give you a good scolding for not going sooner." "How little she dreams of what my real errand is!" whispered Nanna to herself. "I wonder if I am doing right in not telling her! But surely if I can keep trouble from her that is right! Surely she has suffered enough through Ralph Waring already without having any more! She thinks he is dead--'tis better so." And with that assurance she started on her journey. "You blessed one!" exclaimed the excitable Bessie; "I have a good mind now you are here to lock you up like lavender, and never let you back again. Now I am going to get a high-style tea ready. If only I had been quite sure you were coming I would have bought a whole red-herring--they are the most economical things going, you only need one; you hand it all round the table, and each guest rubs his, or her, bread with it, and each one has all the delight of seeming to eat a whole bloater. However, as it is, we must stretch to sardines this time. David!"--peeping into the shop--"I'm not coming into the shop any more to-day, so if you can't manage to scrape along without me, you can put up the shutters at once." "You see, Mrs. Colston," said David, "she is just the same Bessie as ever." "Well, I never!" exclaimed Bessie, "if that isn't rich! Did you expect I should turn into somebody else?--say Polly Spriggs, or the Duchess of Marlborough!--which would you have preferred?" But David had fled back into the shop. It was during tea Nanna told her story--always the time for confidences. "We had such a strange customer in the other day, Bessie. Guess who it was!" "Was it one of the high levellers, or one of the low levellers?" "He looked like one of the low levellers, as you call them; but he used to be----" Nanna's hands trembled so much she almost dropped her cup.