"That is it," thought Dennis. "She hints to me what must be our relationship. She is the Baroness Ludolph, and is pledged to a future that I cannot share." But as he saw her gratitude, he resolved all the more resolutely not to put it to the hard test of refusing his love. A little later he unconsciously sighed wearily, and she looked at him wistfully. "Oh, that I _knew_ if he felt toward me as he once did!" she said to herself. They now reached the unscathed streets of the west side, which were already thronged with fugitives as hungry and gaunt as themselves. Mingling with this great strange tide of weak, begrimed, hollow-eyed humanity, they at last reached Dr. Goodwin's beautiful church. Here already had begun the noble charity dispensed from that place during the days of want and suffering that followed. CHAPTER XLVII SUSIE WINTHROP Waiting with multitudes of others, Christine and Dennis at last received an army biscuit (hardtack in the soldier's vernacular) and a tin-cup of what resembled coffee. To him it was very touching to see how eagerly she received this coarse fare, proving that she was indeed almost famished. Too weak to stand, they sat down near the door on the sidewalk. A kind lady presently came and said, "If you have no place to go you will find it more comfortable in the church." They gladly availed themselves of her permission, as the thronged street was anything but pleasant. "Mr. Fleet," said Christine, "I am now going to take care of you in return for your care last night," and she led him up to a secluded part of the church by the organ, arranged some cushions on a seat, and then continued: "As I have obeyed you, so you must now be equally docile. Don't you dare move from that place till I call you;" and she left him. He was indeed wearied beyond expression, and most grateful for a chance to rest. This refuge and the way it was secured seemed almost a heavenly experience, and he thought with deepest longing, "If we could always take care of each other, I should be perhaps too well satisfied with this earthly life." When after a little time Christine returned he was sleeping as heavily as he had done before upon the beach, but the smile his last thought occasioned still rested on his face. For some little time she also sat near and rested, and her eyes sought his face as if a story were written there that she never could finish. Then she went to make inquiries after her father. But no one to whom she spoke knew anything about him.