Faith saw it and pitied him even while she wondered. A few moments later she bade him a cordial "good-night." If there was any suspicion in her heart it did not show in her manner.
She was walking slowly home from the grocery, plunged in the most serious thought, when a well-dressed man of middle age appeared suddenly before her.
"I beg pardon, miss," he said, raising his hat, "but I am a stranger in this neighborhood and am looking for a certain number. If you live about here perhaps you will kindly direct me."
"I will, with pleasure, sir. What number do you wish?" asked Faith.
As she spoke she paused directly in the glare of a gas lamp.
As the light fell on her face the stranger stopped abruptly.
"By Jove! What luck!" he cried, gayly. "The very angel I was thinking of!"
"What do you mean, sir!" cried Faith, who was now thoroughly frightened. "If you wish me to direct you, state the number that you seek at once! I am not in the habit of being addressed by strangers!"
"My dear child, don't get angry. I shall not harm you," said the man, politely, "but you surprised me out of myself. I did not dream of meeting you."
As Faith still stood staring at him he continued, speaking hurriedly, and his manner became so chivalrous that the young girl soon accused herself mentally of rudeness.