He went wrong once, and of course they never gave him another chance.

It isn't their way--that sort of people! I'll admit he was pretty low down when I came across him, but I reckon that was the fault of those who sent him adrift--and after all there was good in him even then.

I am going to tell you something now, Miss Wendermott, which I've often wanted to--that is, if you're interested enough to care to hear it!" All the time she was asking herself how much he knew.

She motioned him to proceed.
"Monty had few things left in the world worth possessing, but there was one which he had never parted with, which he carried with him always.
It was the picture of his little girl, as she had been when his trouble happened." He stooped a little as though to see over the white rails, but she was too adroit.

Her face remained hidden from him by that little cloud of white lace.
"It is an odd thing about that picture," he went on slowly, "but he showed it to me once or twice, and I too got very fond of it! It was just a little girl's face, very bright and very winsome, and over there we were lonely, and it got to mean a good deal to both of us.