thousand sheep, were driven, hustled, and crowded into the narrow pens, slimy and evil-smelling.. These, by their inconvenient structure, afforded no room for rest to the poor brutes. They could not lie down, or recover from the fatigue to which they had been subjected. There was but a scant supply of water or straw; of food they had none.

If rain was or had been falling, it helped the general filthiness, and made the narrow pathways between the pens intersecting the open space at all sorts of angles more slippery and abominable to traverse; whilst if any elements of the London fog were hanging about, as they generally were, they mingled with the heavy masses of steam sent up from the reeking animals, and created a louring noxious atmosphere; the only fitting canopy, perhaps, for such a mingling of man and beast.

The hustling, chaffering, greasy crowd of drovers, farmers, meatsalesmen, butchers'-men and butchers, and the hangers-ón; the unlovely following in the shape of porters, refreshment stall-keepers, and nondescript houseless idlers; the going to and fro from public house to public-house, the drunkenness, the oaths-were all items inseparable maybe from such traffic, but quite well for us to be rid of, and quite well for any civilised community to be rid of from its very centre.

On the off-days, when hay was the commodity dealt in, and it stood in rows of unhorsed wagons and carts on such parts of the grounds as were freest of pens, and when such as were movable of these latter were piled up and crowded together, like the skeletons of misshapen dwarfs, or stores of minia

ture gibbets, gallows,and guillotines, forming a wonderful gymnastic apparatus for the street arabs abound

ing in the neighbourhood, the state of things was only one degree less bad. The smell of the fresh-dried grass partially counteracted the otherwise perpetual evil odour of the place, the supply of which was admirably kept up by the refuse of the previous day's market, and by the proximity of innumerable slaughter-houses, the establishments of the skinner, the fat-boiler, the dealer in bone and offal, and the rest of the callings indigenous to the commerce in cattle.

'Impassable' was morally writ ten up at every approach to this plague-spot, lying within a stone'sthrow of the great channels of London traffic east and west, and yet for years every effort for its abolition was successfully frustrated by that fiend of selfishness called ' vested interests.'

A nice place this, too, for a fair to be held! Yet, if we would look upon ourselves as we really were, we must not omit to make record of a saturnalia so entitled, and bearing the distinguished appellation of the patron saint of the adjacent hospital; and which, taking place annually in Smithfield, presented a culmination of ribaldry and blackguardism which the nor mal condition of the neighbourhood only required to make unique.

Giants, dwarfs, pig-headed ladies, Richardson's shows, menageries, and the minor attractions of fairs, when patronised by a Smithfield population, have only to be thought of to be understood. If any of us think that a retrospective exami nation of ourselves after this sort will occasionally do us good, there are a host of similar pictures of the past at hand, and for the summoning-up of which it is only necessary to remember the drill sergeant's oft-repeated command, and imme diately to obey it.

LONDON'S HEART.

BY B. L. FARJEON, AUTHOR OF 'GRIF,' 'JOSHUA MARVEL, AND
BLADE-O'-GRASS.'

CHAPTER XXXIII.

LIZZIE DEEMS IT NECESSARY TO
CALL CUNNING TO HER AID.

THE first thing Lily saw when she recovered consciousness was Lizzie's face bending down to hers. In that instant Lizzie began to act as all women do, upon every possible occasion. If those who enlist in the ranks of the drama would but act on the stage as they act off it, there would be no talk of the decadence of dramatic art. Every trace of anxiety vanished from Lizzie's face as Lily's eyes looked into hers, and she smiled so brightly and nodded so encouragingly as to infuse strength into the heart of her friend.

'Where am I, Lizzie?'

'With friends, my dear. The theatre was so hot that I almost fainted myself.'

'Did I faint, then? How foolish of me!' A look of joy filled her eyes as they lighted on her brother. 'O Alfred!'

He knelt by her side, and she took his hand and retained it. By this time the theatre was fast being emptied.

'I remember now what it was that overcame me. The horrible sight of that man dying!' She shuddered, and Lizzie said briskly,

'Never mind; we're not going to think of that any more. It was only a piece of acting, after all. We'll go to see something more lively next time.'

And Lizzie nodded emphatically at Alfred, who answered,

VOL. XI.

'Yes, we will. I didn't know what sort of a piece this was, or I shouldn't have brought you to see it.'

'But Mr. Sheldrake knew,' remarked Lizzie, with a sharp glance in the direction of that gentleman.

'I assure you I did not,' was Mr. Sheldrake's reply. 'You do me great injustice, and not for the first time to-night. I have too high pain. She knows that, I am sure; a regard for Miss Lily to cause her and so does Alfred.'

'I know it well,' interposed Alfred eagerly; and Lily knows it too. How can you be so unjust, Liz?'

"This is the first time I have seen the play,' continued Mr. Sheldrake, ' and I had no idea it was anything of this kind.'

He spoke the untruth with a perfect air of injured innocence.

During the passage at arms, Lily solicitude, and now he asked, had regarded Alfred with anxious

Lily? To put the blame on Mr. 'Isn't Liz mistaken and unjust, Sheldrake!'

Lily turned to her friend. 'I am sure you are mistaken, dear Lizzie,' she said. 'I'm so sorry for all this. I am the only one to blame for being so weak and foolish.'

This brought Mr. Sheldrake out in his expressions of sympathy for in full force; he was almost tender Lily, and he even relented so far towards Lizzie as to hold up a warning finger to her as a caution not to be unjust to her friends for the future.

'And now,' he said, when Lily

PP

was ready to depart, I propose we go and have a little supper.'

'No, thank you,' said Lizzie, in a decided tone, not at all softened by the evidence of Mr. Sheldrake's magnanimity.

Mr. Sheldrake bit his lip. 'You speak for all,' he said. 'I think so,' replied Lizzie, gazing at him steadily. Lily will not go without me, and of course Alfred must see me home.'

'Why won't you accept Mr. Sheldrake's invitation, Liz?' asked Alfred uneasily.

'Daddy is waiting up for me,' she replied, and we have a long way to go. And besides, Lily is unwell.'

For one instant, Mr. Sheldrake hesitated; the next, he accepted the position.

'Well, it's of no use trying to persuade you. A wilful woman will have her way. How do you propose we shall go home?' he asked of Lizzie in a tone of sarcastic politeness. 'Your way is different from ours.'

Lizzie decided this without hesitation. They would all go in one cab, and drop Lily at the door of her grandfather's house in Soho, and then Alfred should see Lizzie

home. Mr. Sheldrake made no demur to her suggestion, and the party drove from the theatre. But he stopped the cab at the corner of the little street in Soho, and said. that the driver need not turn, as he could see Lily the few yards she had to go. He jumped out of the

cab, and said to Alfred,

"By the bye, Alf, I want to say a word or two to you. The girls

will excuse us for a moment.'

Alfred and he walked half-adozen steps from the cab, and then he turned upon Alfred, and asked what was the meaning of Lizzie's

behaviour.

'I don't know,' replied Alfred;

'I never saw her in such a humour before.'

She'd better not show herself off often in the same light,' said Mr. Sheldrake, in a threatening tone, or she and I may quarrel. I'm not in the humour to be trifled with. Let her know this; and the sooner she knows it the better.'

'I hope you don't think I am to blame for what has occurred.'

'I haven't stopped to think. When a man's made mad as I've been to-night, he doesn't think of much else but the cause. Look here, Alfred, I don't want to pry into your secrets, my boy, and I don't want to spoil your love-making. You know best whether I've been a friend to you or not

'You have been,' interrupted Alfred eagerly; 'a true friend!

'Well, then, I'm not going to be made to look small by any sweetheart of yours. I've nothing to say against Lizzie; but she mustn't come any of her tricks with me. Now, you've got some control over her, I don't doubt. She'll heed what you say. Take my advice. Tell her to be more civil to me for the future. If she isn't--'here he paused, and gave Alfred a significant look

well, if she isn't, I might turn rusty. And that might be awkward for you, Alf.'

There was no mistaking his meaning, and Alfred's heart sickened at the threat conveyed in the words. It suited Mr. Sheldrake not to notice Alfred's discomposure, and they returned to the cab in silence.

"I'll walk with you, Lily,' said Lizzie, as Mr. Sheldrake held out his hand to assist Lily from the cab; 'it's only a few steps, and

the cab can wait.'

But Mr. Sheldrake put a restraining hand upon her arm.

'I can see Miss Lily safely to her door,' he said politely. You I have a long way to go, and Mr. Musgrave is waiting up for you, you

said. It's very late, and you'd best
be moving. Eh, Alfred ?

Good

'Yes, yes,' returned Alfred hur-
riedly; we must rattle on.
night, Lil dear. Good-night, Mr.
Sheldrake. I'll see you to-morrow
some time.'

Mr. Sheldrake raised his hat to Lizzie, and the cab drove away. For a few moments neither Lizzie nor Alfred spoke. Their thoughts were not in unison. But Lizzie, the more gentle nature of the two, presently crept close to Alfred and placed her hand in his. He threw it from him angrily. She resented this at first, and shrank from him; but a better feeling came upon her soon, and she asked:

What have I done, Alfred, that you behave in this manner to me?' 'Done!' he repeated, with bitter emphasis. Been the ruin of me, I shouldn't wonder !'

'Alfred!'

'O, yes,' he said sullenly. 'It's all very well for you to cry Alfred in that tone; but it won't mend matters. I thought you loved me-'

'Have I not proved it, Alfred?' she interrupted, in a tone of sad

ness.

'But I have found out my mistake,' he continued, not heeding her words; it's always the way. Mr. Sheldrake is right in what he says about women; no man ought

to trust them.'

'Do you think you ought not to trust me? Do you think there is anything in the world that I would not do for your sake? Alfred, you speak blindly! 'I am the best judge of that,' he returned quickly; you don't know all. If there is nothing in the world that you would not do for my sake, why should you act in such a manner to-night as to set Mr. Sheldrake dead against me?'

6

Lizzie did not reply for a few moments; her face was turned towards her lover, as if striving to

539

read his thoughts. She could not gloom of the cab, but his voice see his features distinctly in the was a sufficient index to the trouble that possessed him.

'You speak as if you were afraid of Mr. Sheldrake, Alfred?'

'I should have reason to be if warning to-night.' he turned rusty. He gave me a

'Because I displeased him?' 'Yes, because of you. It makes me sick to think of it, to speak of it. I wish I was dead! I am the most miserable wretch in the world! If it were not for you and Lily, I think I should make away with myself.'

Lizzie, placing her arm tenderly 'Don't speak like that, Alf,' said around him; it breaks my heart to see you so unhappy. I know you love me and Lily. And you ought to be sure that we are better friends to you than Mr. Sheldrake can be, and that we would do more for you if it was in our power.'

'That's it. If it was in your power. But it isn't, and it is in Mr. Sheldrake's; and he has behaved like a true friend to me.'

Alfred,' said Lizzie. 'What is his 'Sometimes I ask myself why, motive?"

against him; and that's the reason 'I know that you are prejudiced you suspect him, and can't be civil to him. You think he wouldn't do me a kindness without a motive ?'

'I am sure he wouldn't,' said Lizzie firmly; and I am sure of heart, do not like him. I wish you another thing-that you, in your had never seen him.'

'I wish I hadn't,' groaned Alfred.

'And yet you have told me he was your best friend, Alfred,' said Lizzie.

'Don't badger me, Liz, for God's sake! I am almost torn to pieces, as it is. You ought to comfort me,

and try and make things better for

me.'

'Ah, if I could! If I knew how to, how gladly would I! Why not confide entirely in me, Alf? Who can have a better right to your confidence than the girl that loves you with all her heart and soul ?-as I do, Alf, my dear! Come now, tell me all. Who knows? Something good may come of it. What's your trouble?'

'Money.'

'Yes, I know that; and that you owe Mr. Sheldrake more than you can pay. Tell me how it all came about, dear.'

So by many little endearing ways she coaxed him to tell her the whole of his miserable story. How, excited by the glowing accounts in the papers of the easy manner in which fortunes could be made on

the turf, he had commenced to bet, a few shillings at the time at first; how he attended races, and how one unfortunate day he won a few pounds, and came home flushed with the idea that he had found the philosopher's stone; how little by little he had been led on, with the inevitable result of losing more than he could afford; how on one important race, when the prophets and tipsters in every one of the papers had declared-in such glowing and confident terms that it was impossible to resist the temptation of making a bold plunge for fortune that a certain horse could

not possibly lose, he had used money which did not belong to him; and

how the horse came in last instead of first.

'I had to make up that money, of course,' he continued; 'I had to

get it somehow; and I did get it

never mind in what manner. You can imagine what I suffered, Liz! I thought I had fortune in my hands; and I had, but I was tricked out of it for the whole affair was a swindle; and I shouldn't wonder if some

of the prophets and tipsters were not in it. The horse was never intended to win; and they swore it couldn't lose.'

He derived comfort from the confession he was making; he took no blame to himself; and he did not, when he reached this point, tell her the story of the theft from the iron box. Then he went on to narrate how he had made Mr. Sheldrake's acquaintance, and how that gentleman had lent him money from time to time, and how misfortune continued to pursue him. He would have had his pockets filled with money over and over again if it had not been that things invariably went wrong with him just at the critical moment.

'It was from no want of judgment on my part, Liz. I had got to learn as much as any of the prophets and tipsters, and yet I could never manage to turn up trumps. I saw other fellows, who didn't know in their whole bodies as much as I knew in my little finger, make hundreds and hundreds of pounds. Then there were others who had been almost as unlucky as I have been, and who all at once made a great strike, and rolled in money. It only wants sticking to, Liz. I'll

make all our fortunes yet; you see if I don't! There's the City and Suburban coming on; and I know something that'll open their eyes. And when I pay Mr. Sheldrake the money I owe him, I'll cut with him, if it's only to please you; although he's behaved like a brick to me, mind that, Liz!'

By the time he had reached the end of his recital he had recovered some of his good spirits. Lizzie listened in silence, and interrupted him only once, to ask him whether he ever made any bets with Mr. Sheldrake.

'O, no,' was the reply; 'Sheldrake' will never bet with me, Liz. Why, sometimes he tries to per