"MR. JULIAN GRAY has asked me to tell him, and to tell you, Mr.Holmcroft, how my troubles began. They began before myrecollection. They began with my birth.

"My mother (as I have heard her say) ruined her prospects, whenshe was quite a young girl, by a marriage with one of herfather's servants--the groom who rode out with her. She suffered,poor creature, the usual penalty of such conduct as hers. After ashort time she and her husband were separated--on the conditionof her sacrificing to the man whom she had married the whole ofthe little fortune that she possessed in her right.

"Gaining her freedom, my mother had to gain her daily bread next.Her family refused to take her back. She attached herself to acompany of strolling players.

"She was earning a bare living in this way, when my fatheraccidentally met with her. He was a man of high rank, proud ofhis position, and well known in the society of that time for hismany accomplishments and his refined tastes. My mother's beautyfascinated him. He took her from the strolling players, andsurrounded her with every luxury that a woman could desire in ahouse of her own.

"I don't know how long they lived together. I only know that myfather, at the time of my first recollections, had abandoned her.She had excited his suspicions of her fidelity--suspicions whichcruelly wronged her, as she declared to her dying day. I believedher, because she was my mother. But I cannot expect others to doas I did--I can only repeat what she said. My father left herabsolutely penniless. He never saw her again; and he refused togo to her when she sent to him in her last moments on earth.

"She was back again among the strolling players when I firstremember her. It was not an unhappy time for me. I was thefavorite pet and plaything of the poor actors. They taught me tosing and to dance at an age when other children are justbeginning to learn to read. At five years old I was in what iscalled 'the profession,' and had made my poor little reputationin booths at country fairs. As early as that, Mr. Holmcroft, Ihad begun to live under an assumed name--the prettiest name theycould invent for me 'to look well in the bills.' It was sometimesa hard struggle for us, in bad seasons, to keep body and soultogether. Learning to sing and dance in public often meantlearning to bear hunger and cold in private, when I wasapprenticed to the stage. And yet I have lived to look back on mydays with the strolling players as the happiest days of my life!

"I was ten years old when the first serious misfortune that I canremember fell upon me. My mother died, worn out in the prime ofher life. And not long afterward the strolling company, broughtto the end of its resources by a succession of bad seasons, wasbroken up.

"I was left on the world, a nameless, penniless outcast, with onefatal inheritance--God knows, I can speak of it without vanity,after what I have gone through!--the inheritance of my mother'sbeauty.

"My only friends were the poor starved-out players. Two of them(husband and wife) obtained engagements in another company, and Iwas included in the bargain The new manager by whom I wasemployed was a drunkard and a brute. One night I made a triflingmistake in the course of the performances--and I was savagelybeaten for it. Perhaps I had inherited some of my father'sspirit--without, I hope, also inheriting my father's pitilessnature. However that may be, I resolved (no matter what became ofme) never again to serve the man who had beaten me. I unlockedthe door of our miserable lodging at daybreak the next morning;and, at ten years old, with my little bundle in my hand, I facedthe world alone.

"My mother had confided to me, in her last moments, my father'sname and the address of his house in London. 'He may feel somecompassion for you' (she said), 'though he feels none for me: tryhim.' I had a few shillings, the last pitiful remains of mywages, in my pocket; and I was not far from London. But I neverwent near my father: child as I was, I would have starved anddied rather than go to him. I had loved my mother dearly; and Ihated the man who had turned his back on her when she lay on herdeathbed. It made no difference to Me that he happened to be myfather.

"Does this confession revolt you? You look at me, Mr. Holmcroft,as if it did.

"Think a little, sir. Does what I have just said condemn me as aheartless creature, even in my earliest years? What is a fatherto a child--when the child has never sat on his knee, and neverhad a kiss or a present from him? If we had met in the street, weshould not have known each other. Perhaps in after-days, when Iwas starving in London, I may have begged of my father withoutknowing it; and he may have thrown his daughter a penny to getrid of her, without knowing it either! What is there sacred inthe relations between father and child, when they are suchrelations as these? Even the flowers of the field cannot growwithout light and air to help them! How is a child's love togrow, with nothing to help it?

"My small savings would have been soon exhausted, even if I hadbeen old enough and strong enough to protect them myself. Asthings were, my few shillings were taken from me by gypsies. Ihad no reason to complain. They gave me food and the shelter oftheir tents, and they made me of use to them in various ways.After a while hard times came to the gypsies, as they had come tothe strolling players. Some of them were imprisoned; the restwere dispersed. It was the season for hop-gathering at the time.I got employment among the hop-pickers next; and that done, Iwent to London with my new friends.

"I have no wish to weary and pain you by dwelling on this part ofmy childhood in detail. It will be enough if I tell you that Isank lower and lower until I ended in selling matches in thestreet. My mother's legacy got me many a sixpence which mymatches would never have charmed out of the pockets of strangersif I had been an ugly child. My face. which was destined to be mygreatest misfortune in after-years, was my best friend in thosedays.

"Is there anything, Mr. Holmcroft, in the life I am now trying todescribe which reminds you of a day when we were out walkingtogether not long since?

"I surprised and offended you, I remember; and it was notpossible for me to explain my conduct at the time. Do yourecollect the little wandering girl, with the miserable fadednosegay in her hand, who ran after us, and begged for ahalf-penny? I shocked you by bursting out crying when the childasked us to buy her a bit of bread. Now you know why I was sosorry for her. Now you know why I offended you the next day bybreaking an engagement with your mother and sisters, and going tosee that child in her wretched home. After what I have confessed,you will admit that my poor little sister in adversity had thefirst claim on me.

"Let me go on. I am sorry if I have distressed you. Let me go on.

"The forlorn wanderers of the streets have (as I found it) oneway always open to them of presenting their sufferings to thenotice of their rich and charitable fellow-creatures. They haveonly to break the law--and they make a public appearance in acourt of justice. If the circumstances connected with theiroffense are of an interesting kind, they gain a second advantage:they are advertised all over England by a report in thenewspapers.

"Yes! even _I_ have my knowledge of the law. I know that itcompletely overlooked me as long as I respected it. But on twodifferent occasions it became my best frie nd when I set it atdefiance! My first fortunate offense was committed when I wasjust twelve years old.

"It was evening time. I was half dead with starvation; the rainwas falling; the night was coming on. I begged--openly, loudly,as only a hungry child can beg. An old lady in a carriage at ashop door complained of my importunity. The policeman did hisduty. The law gave me a supper and shelter at the station-housethat night. I appeared at the police court, and, questioned bythe magistrate, I told my story truly. It was the every-day storyof thousands of children like me; but it had one element ofinterest in it. I confessed to having had a father (he was thendead) who had been a man of rank; and I owned (just as openly asI owned everything else) that I had never applied to him forhelp, in resentment of his treatment of my mother. This incidentwas new, I suppose; it led to the appearance of my 'case' in thenewspapers. The reporters further served my interests bydescribing me as 'pretty and interesting.' Subscriptions weresent to the court. A benevolent married couple, in a respectablesphere of life, visited the workhouse to see me. I produced afavorable impression on them--especially on the wife. I wasliterally friendless; I had no unwelcome relatives to follow meand claim me. The wife was childless; the husband was agood-natured man. It ended in their taking me away with them totry me in service.

"I have always felt the aspiration, no matter how low I may havefallen, to struggle upward to a position above me; to rise, inspite of fortune, superior to my lot in life. Perhaps some of myfather's pride may be at the root of this restless feeling in me.It seems to be a part of my nature. It brought me into thishouse--and it will go with me out of this house. Is it my curseor my blessing? I am not able to decide.

"On the first night when I slept in my new home I said to myself,'They have taken me to be their servant: I will be something morethan that--they shall end in taking me for their child.' Before Ihad been a week in the house I was the wife's favorite companionin the absence of her husband at his place of business. She was ahighly accomplished woman, greatly her husband's superior incultivation, and, unfortunately for herself, also his superior inyears. The love was all on her side. Excepting certain occasionson which he roused her jealousy, they lived together onsufficiently friendly terms. She was one of the many wives whoresign themselves to be disappointed in their husbands--and hewas one of the many husbands who never know what their wivesreally think of them. Her one great happiness was in teaching me.I was eager to learn; I made rapid progress. At my pliant age Isoon acquired the refinements of language and manner whichcharacterized my mistress. It is only the truth to say that thecultivation which has made me capable of personating a lady washer work.

"For three happy years I lived under that friendly roof. I wasbetween fifteen and sixteen years of age, when the fatalinheritance from my mother cast its first shadow on my life. Onemiserable day the wife's motherly love for me changed in aninstant to the jealous hatred that never forgives. Can you guessthe reason? The husband fell in love with me.

"I was innocent; I was blameless. He owned it himself to theclergyman who was with him at his death. By that time years hadpassed. It was too late to justify me.

"He was at an age (when I was under his care) when men areusually supposed to regard women with tranquillity, if not withindifference. It had been the habit of years with me to look onhim as my second father. In my innocent ignorance of the feelingwhich really inspired him, I permitted him to indulge in littlepaternal familiarities with me, which inflamed his guiltypassion. His wife discovered him--not I. No words can describe myastonishment and my horror when the first outbreak of herindignation forced on me the knowledge of the truth. On my kneesI declared myself guiltless. On my knees I implored her to dojustice to my purity and my youth. At other times the sweetestand the most considerate of women, jealousy had now transformedher to a perfect fury. She accused me of deliberately encouraginghim; she declared she would turn me out of the house with her ownhands. Like other easy-tempered men, her husband had reserves ofanger in him which it was dangerous to provoke. When his wifelifted her hand against me, he lost all self-control, on hisside. He openly told her that life was worth nothing to himwithout me. He openly avowed his resolution to go with me when Ileft the house. The maddened woman seized him by the arm--I sawthat, and saw no more. I ran out into the street, panic-stricken.A cab was passing. I got into it before he could open the housedoor, and drove to the only place of refuge I could think of--asmall shop, kept by the widowed sister of one of our servants.Here I obtained shelter for the night. The next day he discoveredme. He made his vile proposals; he offered me the whole of hisfortune; he declared his resolution, say what I might, to returnthe next day. That night, by help of the good woman who had takencare of me-- under cover of the darkness, as if _I_ had been toblame!--I was secretly removed to the East End of London, andplaced under the charge of a trustworthy person who lived, in avery humble way, by letting lodgings.

"Here, in a little back garret at the top of the house, I wasthrown again on the world-- an age when it was doubly perilousfor me to be left to my own resources to earn the bread I ate andthe roof that covered me.

"I claim no credit to myself--young as I was, placed as I wasbetween the easy life of Vice and the hard life of Virtue--foracting as I did. The man simply horrified me: my natural impulsewas to escape from him. But let it be remembered, before Iapproach the saddest part of my sad story, that I was an innocentgirl, and that I was at least not to blame.

"Forgive me for dwelling as I have done on my early years. Ishrink from speaking of the events that are still to come.

"In losing the esteem of my first benefactress, I had, in myfriendless position, lost all hold on an honest life--except theone frail hold of needle-work. The only reference of which Icould now dispose was the recommendation of me by my landlady toa place of business which largely employed expert needle-women.It is needless for me to tell you how miserably work of that sortis remunerated: you have read about it in the newspapers. As longas my health lasted I contrived to live and to keep out of debt.Few girls could have resisted as long as I did theslowly-poisoning influences of crowded work-room, insufficientnourishment, and almost total privation of exercise. My life as achild had been a life in the open air: it had helped tostrengthen a constitution naturally hardy, naturally free fromall taint of hereditary disease. But my time came at last. Underthe cruel stress laid on it my health gave way. I was struck downby low fever, and sentence was pronounced on me by myfellow-lodgers: 'Ah, poor thing, _her_ troubles will soon be atan end!'

"The prediction might have proved true--I might never havecommitted the errors and endured the sufferings of afteryears--if I had fallen ill in another house.

"But it was my good, or my evil, fortune--I dare not saywhich--to have interested in myself and my sorrows an actress ata suburban theatre, who occupied the room under mine. Except whenher stage duties took her away for two or three hours in theevening, this noble creature never left my bedside. Ill as shecould afford it, her purse paid my inevitable expenses while Ilay helpless. The landlady, moved by her example, accepted halfthe weekly rent of my room. The doctor, with the Christiankindness of his profession, would take no fees. All that thetenderest care could accomplish was lavished on me; my youth andmy constitution did the rest. I struggled back to life--and thenI took up my needle again.

"It may surprise you that I should have failed (having an actressfor my dearest friend) to use the means of introduction thusoffered to me to try the stage--especially as my childishtraining had given me, in some small degree, a familiarity withthe Art.

"I had only one motive for shrinking from an appearance at thetheatre--but it was strong enough to induce me to submit to anyalternative that remained, no matter how hopeless it might be. IfI showed myself on the public stage, my discovery by the man fromwhom I had escaped would be only a question of time. I knew himto be habitually a play-goer and a subscriber to a theatricalnewspaper. I had even heard him speak of the theatre to which myfriend was attached, and compare it advantageously with places ofamusement of far higher pretensions. Sooner or later, if I joinedthe company he would be certain to go and see 'the new actress.'The bare thought of it reconciled me to returning to my needle.Before I was strong enough to endure the atmosphere of thecrowded workroom I obtained permission, as a favor, to resume myoccupation at home.

"Surely my choice was the choice of a virtuous girl? And yet theday when I returned to my needle was the fatal day of my life.

"I had now not only to provide for the wants of the passinghour--I had my debts to pay. It was only to be done by toilingharder than ever, and by living more poorly than ever. I soonpaid the penalty, in my weakened state, of leading such a life asthis. One evening my head turned suddenly giddy; my heartthrobbed frightfully. I managed to open the window, and to letthe fresh air into the room, and I felt better. But I was notsufficiently recovered to be able to thread my needle. I thoughtto myself, 'If I go out for half an hour, a little exercise mayput me right again.' I had not, as I suppose, been out more thanten minutes when the attack from which I had suffered in my roomwas renewed. There was no shop near in which I could take refuge.I tried to ring the bell of the nearest house door. Before Icould reach it I fainted in the street.

"How long hunger and weakness left me at the mercy of the firststranger who might pass by, it is impossible for me to say.

"When I partially recovered my senses I was conscious of beingunder shelter somewhere, and of having a wine-glass containingsome cordial drink held to my lips by a man. I managed toswallow--I don't know how little, or how much. The stimulant hada very strange effect on me. Reviving me at first, it ended instupefying me. I lost my senses once more.

"When I next recovered myself, the day was breaking. I was in abed in a strange room. A nameless terror seized me. I called out.Three or four women came in, whose faces betrayed, even to myinexperienced eyes, the shameless infamy of their lives. Istarted up in the bed. I implored them to tell me where I was,and what had happened--

"Spare me! I can say no more. Not long since you heard MissRoseberry call me an outcast from the streets. Now you know--asGod is my judge I am speaking the truth!--now you know what mademe an outcast, and in what measure I deserved my disgrace."

Her voice faltered, her resolution failed her, for the firsttime.

"Give me a few minutes," she said, in low, pleading tones. "If Itry to go on now, I am afraid I shall cry."

She took the chair which Julian had placed for her, turning herface aside so that neither of the men could see it. One of herhands was pressed over her bosom, the other hung listlessly ather side.

Julian rose from the place that he had occupied. Horace neithermoved nor spoke. His head was on his breast: the traces of tearson his cheeks owned mutely that she had touched his heart. Wouldhe forgive her? Julian passed on, and approached Mercy's chair.

In silence he took the hand which hung at her side. In silence helifted it to his lips and kissed it, as her brother might havekissed it. She started, but she never looked up. Some strangefear of discovery seemed to possess her. "Horace?" she whispered,timidly. Julian made no reply. He went back to his place, andallowed her to think it was Horace.

The sacrifice was immense enough--feeling toward her as hefelt--to be worthy of the man who made it.

A few minutes had been all she asked for. In a few minutes sheturned toward them again. Her sweet voice was steady once more;her eyes rested softly on Horace as she went on.

"What was it possible for a friendless girl in my position to do,when the full knowledge of the outrage had been revealed to me?

"If I had possessed near and dear relatives to protect and adviseme, the wretches into whose hands I had fallen might have feltthe penalty of the law. I knew no more of the formalities whichset the law in motion than a child. But I had another alternative(you will say). Charitable societies would have received me andhelped me, if I had stated my case to them. I knew no more of thecharitable societies than I knew of the law. At least, then, Imight have gone back to the honest people among whom I had lived?When I received my freedom, after the interval of some days, Iwas ashamed to go back to the honest people. Helplessly andhopelessly, without sin or choice of mine, I drifted, asthousands of other women have drifted, into the life which set amark on me for the rest of my days.

"Are you surprised at the ignorance which this confessionreveals?

"You, who have your solicitors to inform you of legal remediesand your newspapers, circulars, and active friends to sound thepraises of charitable institutions continually in your ears--you,who possess these advantages, have no idea of the outer world ofignorance in which your lost fellow-creatures live. They knownothing (unless they are rogues accustomed to prey on society) ofyour benevolent schemes to help them. The purpose of publiccharities, and the way to discover and apply to them, ought to beposted at the corner of every street. What do we know of publicdinners and eloquent sermons and neatly printed circulars? Everynow and then the ease of some forlorn creature (generally of awoman) who has committed suicide, within five minutes' walk,perhaps, of an institution which would have opened its doors toher, appears in the newspapers, shocks you dreadfully, and isthen forgotten again. Take as much pains to make charities andasylums known among the people without money as are taken to makea new play, a new journal, or a new medicine known among thepeople with money and you will save many a lost creature who isperishing now.

"You will forgive and understand me if I say no more of thisperiod of my life. Let me pass to the new incident in my careerwhich brought me for the second time before the public notice ina court of law.

"Sad as my experience has been, it has not taught me to think illof human nature. I had found kind hearts to feel for me in myformer troubles; and I had friends--faithful, self-denying,generous friends--among my sisters in adversity now. One of thesepoor women (she has gone, I am glad to think, from the world thatused her so hardly) especially attracted my sympathies. She wasthe gentlest, the most unselfish creature I have ever met with.We lived together like sisters. More than once in the dark hourswhen the thought of self-destruction comes to a desperate woman,the image of my poor devoted friend, left to suffer alone, rosein my mind and restrained me. You will hardly understand it, buteven we had our happy days. When she or I had a few shillings tospare, we used to offer one another little presents, and enjoyour simple pleasure in giving and receiving as keenly as if wehad been the most reputable women living.

"One day I took my friend into a shop to buy her a ribbon--only abow for her dress. She was to choose it, and I was to pay for it,and it was to be the prettiest ribbon that money could buy.

"The shop was full; we had to wait a little before we could beserved.

"Next to me, as I stood at the counter with my companion, was agaudily-dressed woman, looking at some handkerchiefs. Thehandkerchiefs were finely embroidered, but the smart lady washard to please. She tumbled them up dis dainfully in a heap, andasked for other specimens from the stock in the shop. The man, inclearing the handkerchiefs out of the way, suddenly missed one.He was quite sure of it, from a peculiarity in the embroiderywhich made the handkerchief especially noticeable. I was poorlydressed, and I was close to the handkerchiefs. After one look atme he shouted to the superintendent: 'Shut the door! There is athief in the shop!'

"The door was closed; the lost handkerchief was vainly sought foron the counter and on the floor. A robbery had been committed;and I was accused of being the thief.

"I will say nothing of what I felt--I will only tell you whathappened.

"I was searched, and the handkerchief was discovered on me. Thewoman who had stood next to me, on finding herself threatenedwith discovery, had no doubt contrived to slip the stolenhandkerchief into my pocket. Only an accomplished thief couldhave escaped detection in that way without my knowledge. It wasuseless, in the face of the facts, to declare my innocence. I hadno character to appeal to. My friend tried to speak for me; butwhat was she? Only a lost woman like myself. My landlady'sevidence in favor of my honesty produced no effect; it wasagainst her that she let lodgings to people in my position. I wasprosecuted, and found guilty. The tale of my disgrace is nowcomplete, Mr. Holmcroft. No matter whether I was innocent or not,the shame of it remains--I have been imprisoned for theft.

"The matron of the prison was the next person who took aninterest in me. She reported favorably of my behavior to theauthorities and when I had served my time (as the phrase wasamong us) she gave me a letter to the kind friend and guardian ofmy later years--to the lady who is coming here to take me backwith her to the Refuge.

"From this time the story of my life is little more than thestory of a woman's vain efforts to recover her lost place in theworld.

"The matron, on receiving me into the Refuge, franklyacknowledged that there were terrible obstacles in my way. Butshe saw that I was sincere, and she felt a good woman's sympathyand compassion for me. On my side, I did not shrink frombeginning the slow and weary journey back again to a reputablelife from the humblest starting-point--from domestic service.After first earning my new character in the Refuge, I obtained atrial in a respectable house. I worked hard, and workeduncomplainingly; but my mother's fatal legacy was against me fromthe first. My personal appearance excited remark; my manners andhabits were not the manners and habits of the women among whom mylot was cast. I tried one place after another--always with thesame results. Suspicion and jealousy I could endure; but I wasdefenseless when curiosity assailed me in its turn. Sooner orlater inquiry led to discovery. Sometimes the servants threatenedto give warning in a body--and I was obliged to go. Sometimes,where there was a young man in the family, scandal pointed at meand at him--and again I was obliged to go. If you care to knowit, Miss Roseberry can tell you the story of those sad days. Iconfided it to her on the memorable night when we met in theFrench cottage; I have no heart repeat it now. After a while Iwearied of the hopeless struggle. Despair laid its hold on me--Ilost all hope in the mercy of God. More than once I walked to oneor other of the bridges, and looked over the parapet at theriver, and said to myself 'Other women have done it: whyshouldn't I?'

"You saved me at that time, Mr. Gray--as you have saved me since.I was one of your congregation when you preached in the chapel ofthe Refuge You reconciled others besides me to our hardpilgrimage. In their name and in mine, sir, I thank you.

"I forget how long it was after the bright day when you comfortedand sustained us that the war broke out between France andGermany. But I can never forget the evening when the matron sentfor me into her own room and said, 'My dear, your life here is awasted life. If you have courage enough left to try it, I cangive you another chance.'

"I passed through a month of probation in a London hospital. Aweek after that I wore the red cross of the Geneva Convention--Iwas appointed nurse in a French ambulance. When you first saw me,Mr. Holmcroft, I still had my nurse's dress on, hidden from youand from everybody under a gray cloak.

"You know what the next event was; you know how I entered thishouse.

"I have not tried to make the worst of my trials and troubles intelling you what my life has been. I have honestly described itfor what it was when I met with Miss Roseberry--a life withouthope. May you never know the temptation that tried me when theshell struck its victim in the French cottage! There shelay--dead! _Her_ name was untainted. _Her_ future promised me thereward which had been denied to the honest efforts of a penitentwoman. My lost place in the world was offered back to me on theone condition that I stooped to win it by a fraud. I had noprospect to look forward to; I had no friend near to advise meand to save me; the fairest years of my womanhood had been wastedin the vain struggle to recover my good name. Such was myposition when the possibility of personating Miss Roseberry firstforced itself on my mind. Impulsively, recklessly-- wickedly, ifyou like--I seized the opportunity, and let you pass me throughthe German lines under Miss Roseberry's name. Arrived in England,having had time to reflect, I made my first and last effort todraw back before it was too late. I went to the Refuge, andstopped on the opposite side of the street, looking at it. Theold hopeless life of irretrievable disgrace confronted me as Ifixed my eyes on the familiar door; the horror of returning tothat life was more than I could force myself to endure. An emptycab passed me at the moment. The driver held up his hand. Insheer despair I stopped him, and when he said 'Where to?' insheer despair again I answered, 'Mablethorpe House.'

"Of what I have suffered in secret since my own successfuldeception established me under Lady Janet's care I shall saynothing. Many things which must have surprised you in my conductare made plain to you by this time. You must have noticed longsince that I was not a happy woman. Now you know why.

"My confession is made; my conscience has spoken at last. You arereleased from your promise to me--you are free. Thank Mr. JulianGray if I stand here self-accused of the offense, that I havecommitted, before the man whom I have wronged."