just that colour, and it seemed to rouse her somehow." The train drew up at the terminus, and she held out her hand in farewell. "Good-bye. Please think of my Mabel sometimes. I don't know what religion you are, but if you would sometimes say this prayer for her, perhaps God might hear." She held out a little bit of paper, soiled and smudged as if with many tears; and then the crowds surged between us, and we parted. THE SWEEP'S LEGACY (1900) Most visitors among the poor have come across the person who believes that he has a large fortune kept back from him by the Queen, aided and abetted by the gentlemen of Somerset House and other public offices. I once knew a sweep in Whitechapel who was firmly persuaded that he had a legacy of five hundred pounds in the Bank of England. "Yes, lady, if I had my rights, I should not be so poor. My aunt, Lady Cable Knight--she married a tip-top nobleman, she did--left me on her dying bed five hundred pounds in gold. The money's in the Bank of England. I seed it there myself on a shelf, labelled A. A.--Anthony Adams--but I ain't no scholard, and the gentleman behind the counter said I must have a scholard to speak for me. The money is there right enough, and I've got my aunt's marriage lines, so that proves it clear." At first I paid little heed to his story, but after a time I got fond of the old sweep, and began to wonder if I could not help him to obtain this legacy. He was a good old man--always serene, always "trustful in the Lord," though he well knew the pangs of hunger and cold, for younger and stronger men were crushing him out of his profession. A poor deformed creature lived with him--one of those terrible abortions found in the homes of the poor--epileptic, crippled, hydrocephalous, whom I took for the son of the house but on inquiry I found he was no relation. "We were neighbours up George Yard, lady; no, he ain't no son of mine, H'albert ain't. He's very afflicted, poor chap, and 'is own family would have nothing to do with 'im, so I gave 'im a 'ome. The lad don't eat much, and the Lord will reward me some day. If I only had that money, though, we might live comfortable!" Of course it was strictly against the rules of the Buildings for "H'albert" to share the room, but even women rent-collectors have hearts. "If you only had some proof of your claim to the money, I would try to help you," I said one day when the rent had been missed. I had noticed the little room getting barer and shabbier week by week, and to-day the old man, his wife, and "H'albert" looked pinched and blue with cold and hunger. Already I had secretly paid a visit to Somerset House to inspect the will of Lady Cable Knight.