A voice called in the front room, and the woman put on her cap and ran in; Jane stood where she left her. She hardly knew what moved her to-night; she saw her own body walking about, tense and foreign, as though some possession had it; she had felt a new, strange kind of strength all day, after she had her cry out. She looked up at the picture again, saying slowly to herself: 'It's for _them_--I've got father, and mother, and sister, and brethren.' Nine o'clock struck, and people began to come in; there was likely to be a rush to-night, and the players in the front room commenced their liveliest round of operatic airs. One after another turned into the side room, and the calls for service grew lively. Jane moved among them mechanically, thinking all the while of Nobby tossing in his pain; of the tree waiting for to-morrow; of her father turned out of his place; of the rent and the grocer's bill that were about due; and of her own wages, pretty much all that was left. Was it such a terrible sin to be there--for _them_? Then she shivered to think she might be sliding down. No, no, she would be kept--they should be taken care of, but she wouldn't fall while she had them to think of. A hot flush colored her face as she thought of young Prescott, confusing her so that she almost stumbled. What would _he_ think if he knew where she worked? No matter, he shouldn't know it. He would take her out of this by and by, and after that she would tell him all about it, and what she did it for, and he would love her all the better for it. The hours struck and went by, and the room grew hotter and noisier. Once the tables were emptied; but a fresh party came in, and their leader waved them to seats with maudlin politeness. He was a handsome young man, partly drunk already; he pushed the woman he had with him into a chair, and dropped into another himself. His back was toward Jane; she stood still a minute, then walked slowly, as if something dragged her, till she could see his face. The glass she held fell from her hand with a crash, but she stood dumb and white, and clung trembling to the table. He started, but gave her a nod. '_You_, Will Prescott! Oh, my God!' 'You here, Jane! And you're one of 'em too! I didn't think it quite so soon.' She did not seem to hear the last words. The blood surged back to her face, and she sank at his feet. 'No, no,' she moaned, 'I'm not, I'm not--I'm only here. You won't think worse of me, Will, seeing I did it for _them_? I must work somewhere, and this was all I could find. Say you don't think _that_! Say you believe me!' He smiled in a drunken way, without speaking. 'Say it, Will! Say you love me, and take me out of this!' 'Ho, ho! that's a devilish good one! You're here, and so'm I; I'm just a little merry to-night--couldn't wait till to-morrow. We're well met, Jane--these are my friends; here's my most par-ticular friend,' laying his hand on his companion's shoulder.