As he made this remark a hand was laid upon his arm, and, turning, he saw Nansie. From her face the beauty of youth had quite fled; sorrow and trial had left their traces there, but her brave spirit and cheerful endurance of long hours of toil had so chastened her that no one could be long in her presence without being made to feel that here was one in whom the highest attributes of fortitude, faith, and duty's performance were manifest. The time was within a few minutes to eleven, and Mr. Loveday was surprised to see her out at that hour of the night. "Do you know where Kingsley is?" she asked. "No," replied Mr. Loveday. "Is he not at home?" "He has not returned yet," said Nansie, "and I am anxious about him." "I will find him for you," said Mr. Loveday. "He will come home at once when he hears you are uneasy about him." "Yes, I know he will do that. I should like to see him myself, to explain--" "Nansie," cried Mr. Loveday, as she paused, "something is troubling you." "Yes," she answered, frankly; "I cannot tell you what it is--I do not think I ought." "Where is Hester?" "At home, alone. She will not go to bed until her father returns." "But you, Nansie, are you not going back?" "No; I have something to do that will keep me out late. That is what I wished to see Kingsley for--to explain it to him. Tell him I may not be home till the morning, and that Hester is waiting for him. He is not to worry himself; everything is right." "There goes a true woman," said Dr. Perriera, looking after her, "upon an errand of mercy and goodness." "Do you know what it is?" asked Mr. Loveday. "No, nor can I guess, but I would stake my life that it is as I say, and that you believe as I do, notwithstanding that we are both in the dark." "You are right," said Mr. Loveday. "Dr. Perriera, misfortune sometimes proves a blessing. It has been so to me. Had I been rich and prosperous, I doubt whether it would have been given to me to know the perfect sweetness and beauty to be found in common lives." "It is the fashion to call them common lives," responded Dr. Perriera, "though here and there is a life which an angel would be proud to live." CHAPTER XXXIV. Some three months after this night a gentleman was sitting with a friend in a well-appointed house in Harley Street. The host was a man in the prime of life, his name Hollingworth; the guest was his elder in years, his name Manners--none other than the once great contractor--Mr. Valentine Manners, Kingsley's father. They had dined, and were sitting over their claret.