'Because she might suppose I hadn't seen her; and might return.' 'And did she ?' 'Certainly she did.

Next morning, and next evening too; but always when there were no people about, and always alone.

I rose earlier and sat there later, that when she came, she might find the church door open, and the organ playing, and might not be disappointed.

She strolled that way for some days, and always stayed to listen.

But she is gone now, and of all unlikely things in this wide world, it is perhaps the most improbable that I shall ever look upon her face again.' 'You don't know anything more about her ?' 'No.' 'And you never followed her when she went away ?' 'Why should I distress her by doing that ?' said Tom Pinch.