barrow, he collided violently with a bowed runner who carried the forward pole of a chair upon his shoulder. Mark went sprawling into the slime, and the next moment—wonder of wonders—there spoke in English a woman's voice, with a slow Scotch accent.
"I'm ever so sorry! No harm but mud, I hope?"
He sprang up beside the chair, which had halted close to him, and, to its occupant's extreme astonishment, poured forth half his tale in one gasp.
"You must really excuse me," he added suddenly, after a pause for breath, noting all at once the amazement in his listener's gray eyes, "but oh, if you knew how great it is to see an English person!"
O fortunate Mark, to be knocked head over heels by this chair of all others! This was Miss Macdougal from the Medical Mission Hospital, it appeared, and indeed she was the very person who'd be glad to help him out. It was not her habit, she informed him, to succor every young ragamuffin who told her a tale of woe in the streets, merely because he spoke her tongue. But she believed Mark, and told him so. She
