"But what about you?"
"Oh, I'm used to it," said William valiantly. "I don't mind. Please, you'd better not come," he urged. "I'm thinkin' of you——"
"I shan't feel that I've done my duty till I've at any rate tried to make him see his sin."
They were in the street now in which William's family were living. William looked pale and desperate. Matters seemed to have gone beyond his control. Suddenly he had an idea. He would lead her past the house and on and on till one or other of them dropped from fatigue. She'd have to go home some time. She couldn't go on all night. He could say he'd forgotten where he lived. He began to dislike her intensely. Fussy ole thing! Believing everything everyone said to her! Interfering with other people's drunken fathers! He was creeping cautiously and silently past his house by the side of his unsuspecting companion, when a shrill cry reached him.
"William! Hi! William! Where have you been? Mother says come in at once!"
It was Ethel leaning out of an upstairs window. The sight of her pretty white-clad figure brought no pleasure to her brother's heart. He put out his tongue at her and sadly opened the garden gate.
"You'd better not come in," he said faintly to his companion, in a last feeble attempt to avert the catastrophe which Fate seemed determined to bring upon him, "he gets vilent about this time of day."
With firm set lips his companion followed him.
"I must do my duty," she said sternly.
******