"If we had been let alone, my girl and me, there would have been no occasion for me to be here now; but we were not let alone, to live our lives our own way. We were interfered with by a gentleman." "Come, come, my friend," said Mr. Hollingworth, "this is mere clap-trap." "Not a bit of clap-trap about it, sir. Hard, bitter truth; that's what it is. According to the order of things, my girl would have married one of my sort, one of her own--there were plenty after her, but she wouldn't look at 'em--and would have had her regular ups and downs, and gone through life respectable." "Oh," remarked Mr. Hollingworth, flippantly, "she has spoiled her chance for that!" "It's been spoiled for her, sir. When and where she met this gentleman of hers I've no means of saying; she's as close as wax; and it is only by a trick--a just trick that a father has a right to use--that I've come to some knowledge of things. But I'll tell my story straight, and won't run ahead more than I can help. It's months ago now since my girl run away from me, and left never a word behind her that I could find her by." "In the name of all that's reasonable," exclaimed Mr. Hollingworth, "you have not come to me to find her for you?" "No, sir; that's not my business here. My girl was found and saved by an angel." "A veritable angel?" asked Mr. Hollingworth. He was nettled by the tone and attitude of the man, and was disposed to resent these signs by a lightness of manner in his reception of the uninvited confidence that was being reposed in him. "What do you mean by veritable?" demanded Mr. Parkinson; and quickly himself answered his own question. "Oh! I know; a kind of mockery of me! The angel I mean is a woman with a name which I'll give you if you like." "It's a matter of perfect indifference to me, my good man." "I'll give it to you, then. There are not many like her, and as I come here alone, unsupported by evidences or witnesses, you might, when I've done, like to find out for yourself whether I'm speaking the truth. That would be only fair. The good angel who found and saved my Mary is Mrs. Manners, who is something more than loved--she's worshipped by every one who knows her." When Mr. Parkinson uttered the name of Manners, Mr. Hollingworth started, and glanced at his visitor; but the great contractor made no movement. "Your daughter being found and saved," said Mr. Hollingworth, "there is a pleasant ending of your story."