 home from the soup-kitchen, where certain occupations had
kept her much later than usual; this, however, was far out of her way, and
Sidney remarked on the fact, perversely, when she had offered this explanation
of her meeting him. Jane did not reply. They walked on together, towards
Islington.
    »Are you going to help at that place all the winter?« he inquired.
    »Yes; I think so.«
    If he had spoken his thought, he would have railed against the soup-kitchen
and all that was connected with it. So far had he got in his revolt against
circumstances; Jane's mission was hateful to him; he could not bear to think of
her handing soup over a counter to ragged wretches.
    »You're nothing like as cheerful as you used to be,« he said, suddenly, and
all but roughly. »Why is it?«
    What a question! Jane reddened as she tried to look at him with a smile; no
words would come to her tongue.
    »Do you go anywhere else, besides to - to that place?«
    Not often. She had accompanied Miss Lant on a visit to some people in
Shooter's Gardens.
    Sidney bent his brows. A nice spot, Shooter's Gardens.
    »The houses are going to be pulled down, I'm glad to say,« continued Jane.
»Miss Lant thinks it'll be a good opportunity for helping a few of the families
into better lodgings. We're going to buy furniture for them - so many have as
good as none at all, you know. It'll be a good start for them, won't it?«
    Sidney nodded. He was thinking of another family who already owed their
furniture to Jane's beneficence, though they did not know it.
    »Mind you don't throw away kindness on worthless people,« he said presently.
    »We can only do our best, and hope they'll keep comfortable for their own
sakes.«
    »Yes, yes. Well, I'll say good-night to you here. Go home and rest; you look
tired.«
    He no longer called her by her name. Tearing himself away, with a last look,
he raged inwardly that so sweet and gentle a creature should be condemned to
such a waste of her young life.
    Jane had obtained what she came for. At times the longing to see him grew
insupportable, and this evening she had yielded to it, going out of her
