It did not look a very inviting residence--a narrow street, leading into a court which was too dark and too distant to be seen into from the corner where she had stopped. 'I sha'n't say good-night till you say when I shall see you again.' 'What's the use? It only makes me more miserable to see you, though I can't help being glad I have seen you this once.' 'But I must try to do something for you. I think I've some sort of right to help you, Alice.' 'But I've no right to be helped by you. Besides, I really don't need help. I have all I want. I'd much better not see you again.' 'Well, _I_ mean to see _you_ again, anyway. I shall be in London for some time. When shall I see you?' 'Not at all.' 'Nonsense!' he said, authoritatively. 'You must promise to write, at any rate, or I shall come down here and wait from eight to eleven every evening till I see you.' 'Very well. I'll write, then. Good-bye!' 'But how can you write? You don't know my address. Here's my card;' and he scribbled the address in pencil. 'It's a promise, Alice. You'll write and you'll see me again?' 'Yes, yes; good-bye;' and she turned to leave him. 'Why, you're forgetting your parcel.' 'So I am. Thank you!' As she took it from him, he said suddenly, watching her keenly the while,-- 'Roland is in town now. Shall I bring him to see you?' 'No, no; for God's sake, don't tell _him_ you've seen me!' And she left him so quickly as to give no time for another word. As she sped down the street a loitering policeman turned to look sharply at her, and two tidy-looking women who were standing at the opposite corner exchanged significant glances. 'I never thought she was one of that sort!' said one. 'Ah!' said the other, 'bad times drives some that way as 'ud keep straight enough with fair-paid work.' CHAPTER VI. BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.