"One for him," thought Gracie, with a chuckle. "Give it him hot. You're a good sort, Mrs. Thomson."
"Dear me, dear me!" said Dr. Vinson. "Run our little Gracie down--our lit-tle Gra-cie down! No, no, indeed! The sweetest child, the sweetest child!"
"That she is, sir," said the woman, "and I beg your pardon again for speaking so hasty."
"No offence, my good creature, no offence," said Dr. Vinsen; "where none is meant, none should be taken. Is this your little one?" A sturdy blue-eyed toddlekins was tugging at her apron strings, and he stooped and patted the curly head. "Here's a penny for lollypops. Good day--good day!"
He raised his hat, which caused the woman to stare, and strolled out of Draper's Mews. She gave a start when Gracie glided from behind the door.
"I didn't want him to see me," said Gracie. "Thank you ever so much for sticking up for me."
And she, also, strolled out of Draper's Mews, and followed Dr. Vinsen at a distance so carefully and warily, and apparently with so much unconcern, that no one would have suspected that she was engaged upon the most important task she had ever undertaken. "Now I've got you," was her thought, "and I don't let you go." She kept her sharp eyes fixed upon him. When he stopped she stopped, when he lingered she lingered, when he walked slowly she walked slowly, when he quickened his steps she quickened hers. It appeared as if he were undecided as to the course he should pursue, for now and then he looked about him, and seemed to debate which way to turn. It was evident that he had no definite business to attend to, and no definite goal to reach. Passing a public house of a superior kind, he had gone a dozen yards beyond it when he turned back and entered the private bar. Grace made a rapid survey, to see how many doors there were by which he could leave. In point of fact, although of course it was a corner house, there was only one, but of this she was not aware, so she posted herself on the opposite corner and watched all the doors, and if there had been twice as many she would have had eyes for them all. He remained a long time in the private bar, and when he made his reappearance he was still as undecided as to his course. It may have been out of mere idleness that he entered a chemist's shop and purchased something, which he put into his pocket as he came out. In this aimless way he and Gracie strolled on through Park Street, Islington, at one part of which he crossed the road and looked up at the windows of a house. It was the house in which Reginald had lodged. Gracie noted the number, and would not forget it. So they strolled on, past the Grand Theatre, past Sadler's Wells, through Clerkenwell into Holborn, where he hailed a bus for Charing Cross, and got inside. "It's a good job Dick gave me some money," thought Gracie, as she scrambled to the top without being observed by the gentleman she had been following.
CHAPTER L.
[EZRA LYNN, THE MONEY-LENDER.]
At Charing Cross Dr. Vinsen alighted, and Gracie descended from the roof in the manner generally adopted by females, with her back instead of her face to the horses, which is by far the more dangerous way of the two to climb down from an omnibus. But, Gracie being a girl of unusual sharpness and penetration, it may be that she got down that way for the purpose of keeping her eye upon Dr. Vinsen, and if this were so she was quite successful, for she did not lose sight of him for a single moment, despite the busy throng of people hurrying in all directions, and the bewildering entanglement of vehicles of every description, which render this part of London at mid-day one of the most marvellous demonstrations of the civilised life of a great city that can be met with all the world over.