"I must tell my story my own way, sir, and you will soon see how it affects you."
"Go on, then, if it must be so."
"If we had been let alone, my girl and me, there would have been no occasion for me to be here now; but we were not let alone, to live our lives our own way. We were interfered with by a gentleman."
"Come, come, my friend," said Mr. Hollingworth, "this is mere clap-trap."
"Not a bit of clap-trap about it, sir. Hard, bitter truth; that's what it is. According to the order of things, my girl would have married one of my sort, one of her own--there were plenty after her, but she wouldn't look at 'em--and would have had her regular ups and downs, and gone through life respectable."
"Oh," remarked Mr. Hollingworth, flippantly, "she has spoiled her chance for that!"
"It's been spoiled for her, sir. When and where she met this gentleman of hers I've no means of saying; she's as close as wax; and it is only by a trick--a just trick that a father has a right to use--that I've come to some knowledge of things. But I'll tell my story straight, and won't run ahead more than I can help. It's months ago now since my girl run away from me, and left never a word behind her that I could find her by."
"In the name of all that's reasonable," exclaimed Mr. Hollingworth, "you have not come to me to find her for you?"
"No, sir; that's not my business here. My girl was found and saved by an angel."
"A veritable angel?" asked Mr. Hollingworth. He was nettled by the tone and attitude of the man, and was disposed to resent these signs by a lightness of manner in his reception of the uninvited confidence that was being reposed in him.