'Then you think she ought to have a better lodging, in a better quarter. She cannot pay for it. I can. Ought I to give it to her?' Betty fidgeted, inwardly. The conditions of the cab did not allow of much external fidgeting. 'I do not know why you ask me this,' she said. 'No; but indulge me! I do not ask you without a purpose.' 'I am afraid of your purpose! Yes; if I must tell you, I should say, Oh, take me out of this! Let me see the sun whenever he can be seen in this rainy London; and let me have sweet air outside of my windows. Then I would like somebody to look after me; to open my window in summer and make my fire in winter, and prepare nice meals for me. I would like good bread, and a cup of drinkable tea, and a little bit of butter on my bread. And clothes enough to keep clean; and then I would like to live to thank you!' Betty had worked herself up to a point where she was very near a great burst of tears. She stopped with a choked sob in her throat, and looked out of the cab window. Pitt's voice was changed when he spoke. 'That is just what I thought.' 'And you have done it!' 'No; I am doing it. I could not at once find what I wanted. Now I have got it, I believe. Go on now, please, and tell me what ought to be done for the man in rheumatic fever.' 'The doctor would know better than I.' 'He cannot pay for a doctor.' 'But he ought to have one!' 'Yes, I thought so.' 'I see what you are coming to,' said Betty; 'but, Mr. Pitt, I can _not_ see that it is your duty to pay physician's bills for everybody that cannot afford it.' 'I am not talking of everybody. I am speaking of this Mr. Hutchins.' 'But there are plenty more, as badly off.' 'As badly,--and worse.' 'You _cannot_ take care of them all.' 'Therefore--? What is your deduction from that fact?' 'Where are you going to stop?' 'Where ought I to stop? Put yourself, in imagination, in that condition I have described; the chill of a rheumatic fever, and a room without fire, in the depth of winter. What would your sense of justice demand from the well and strong and comfortable and _able?_ Honestly.' 'Why,' said Betty, again surveying Pitt from one side, '_with my notions_, I should want a doctor, and an attendant, and a comfortable room.' 'I do not doubt his notions would agree with yours,--if his fancy could get so far.' 'But who ought to furnish those things for him is another question.' 'Another, but not more hard to answer. The Bible rule is, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it--"' 'Will you, ought you, to do all that you find to do?'