Dr. Spenlove remained with her an hour, striving to cheer her, to instill hope into her heart, but his words had no effect upon her, and, indeed, he felt at times that the platitudes to which he was giving utterance were little better than mockery. Was not this woman face to face with the practical issues of life and death in their most awful aspect, and was there any other than a practical remedy for them? She asked for bread, and he was offering her a stone. It was then he went from her room, and learned the full truth from her landlord, who was only waiting till he was gone to turn her into the streets. We know by what means he bought a day's respite for her. Finally he left her, and bore away with him the darkest picture of human misery of which he had ever had experience. CHAPTER II. DR. SPENLOVE'S VISITOR. His landlady, Mrs. Radcliffe, met him on the doorstep, and informed him that the gentleman who had called to see him in the afternoon had called again, and was in his room. "A word, Mrs. Radcliffe," he said hurriedly. "I am going to ask a great favor of you. I owe you two weeks' rent." "Yes, sir." His heart sank within him; he divined immediately from her tone that she was in need of the money. "Would it inconvenience you to wait a little while for it?" "I must, sir, if you haven't got it," she replied, "but I am dreadfully hard pressed, and I reckoned on it. I'm behindhand myself, sir, and my landlord's been threatening me----" "Say no more, Mrs. Radcliffe. Justice must be first served. I have the money; take it, for Heaven's sake. I must not rob the poor to help the poor." He muttered the last words to himself as he thrust the sixteen shillings into her hand. "I am so sorry, sir," said the distressed woman. He interrupted her with, "There, there, I am ashamed that I asked you. I am sure no one has a kinder heart than you, and I am greatly obliged to you for all the attention you have shown me while I have been in your house. The gentleman is in my room, you say----" It was a proof of Mrs. Radcliffe's kindness of heart that there was a bright fire blazing in the room, made with her own coals, and that the lamp had been replenished with her own oil. Dr. Spenlove was grateful to her, and he inwardly acknowledged that he could not have otherwise disposed of the few shillings which he had no right to call his own. His visitor rose as he entered, a well-dressed man some forty years of age, sturdily built, with touches of gray already in his hair and beard, and with signs in his face and on his forehead indicative of a strong will. "Dr. Spenlove?" he asked. "That is my name." "Mine is Gordon. I have come to see you on a matter of great importance."