She ran upstairs and told her aunt that there was a rush order in her shop and she must hurry back; she only had time for a glass of tea and a piece of bread. To-morrow she would take a bigger lunch and not come home for supper. In a few minutes she out was again on the brightly lit streets. From her scant store of savings she bought a hat, a blouse, a pair of stockings and white shoes. She left her bundles at a store near her home, and then started on a pilgrimage. The shrine she set out to visit was the little second-hand book-store on East Broadway, where she had been so happy with her father. It had hardly changed at all. Only the man who sat on the high stool behind the desk did not look like her father. She stood there aimlessly for a few minutes, and then her eye fell on the first two volumes of _Les Miserables_. It was the set she had read to her father. The last volume was in her room. "One volume is gone," the man told her; "you can have them for seventy-five cents." "I ain't got more'n half a dollar," she said. "The complete set is worth five dollars." "I only got fifty cents." "All right. Take them." She turned away from him to pull the last of her little horde out of her blouse. When she faced him, there were tears in her eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked kindly. "Nothin'. My father used to keep this store. These were the last books I read to him." "Oh! Is your name Rayefsky? I knew your father--he was a good man. And I guess I used to know you, when you were about so high. Let's see--what was your name?" "Yetta." "Oh, yes, little Yetta Rayefsky, grown up into a big woman. I suppose you'll be getting married soon." "Say, can I sit down here fer a while," she asked, to change the subject. "Of course you can," he said cordially, bringing her a chair. She pulled it back into the obscurity and sat there all the evening, watching through wet eyes the old familiar scene, the people who came to buy, and the people who came to talk. One or two she recognized. When she had been a little girl, she used to sit up there behind the desk on a high stool beside her father and fall asleep against his shoulder. There was no one now to lean her head against when she was tired--except Harry. He promised to take care of her.