"What a sad story" says Helen gently "but I'm sure it was very good of you to risk taking the man in. I suppose you came to me for money did you not?" "No mum not for that" replies Mrs. Cotton sadly "you see I've tried to save a little money myself during the last few years so I've been able to have the doctor in once or twice to look at the poor man. Mr. Harland his name is. Me and my girl Sally, we've made the attic as confortable as we can and I've lit a fire up there once, but you see mum coles costs money like everythink else. The doctor says there's not much 'ope for the poor man, he's dying fast of fever and consumption. The other night mum, your gardiner, happened to come in for a glass of something and of course he got talking with the other men and the conversation fell on you mum, and he said he's known you a long time ever since you was Miss Winston (or some sich name as that) At the time the talk was going on, I was sitting upstairs with Mr. Harland and as the door was open we could hear the talk in the bar quite distinct; well mum, directly Mr. Harland heard your name mentioned, he got quite wild and excited all of a sudden and went raving on about you and he would'nt be satisfied till I told him all I knew about you. I was astonished mum I can tell you. After that Mr. Harland seemed much quieter and all yesterday and today he's been in a sort of stupor, but about half past three today he called me and told me he'd not got very long to live and would I do him a favour? I said "Yes," so he told me to go into the town and ask you to come and see him at once. He says he knew you quite well some time back and you knew him too, but you probably have forgotten the name now. I tell you mum I was fair took aback, but however leaving my girl Sally in charge of him, I started off on my errand, and here I am mum, waiting to know what your answer may be to this extraordinary request?" "It is a most extraordinary request" as you say Mrs. Cotton, and I never knew anybody by the name of Harland" replied Helen. "My idea is mum" says Mrs. Cotton "that the poor man is dilerious." "Very likely" answered Helen, "but to please him, I will order the carriage and we will drive over together, you look far too tired and cold to walk." As Helen speaks she toches a spring bell, and then reaching a sable-lined cloak from the peg she puts it on drawing the hood over her soft brown hair. She then orders a baskitt of streangthing things to be packed for the invalid. Then the carriage comes round to the front door and the two get in. A contrast indeed! The one small, shrivelled and shrunken, hugging her wreatched garments around her to keep out the biting cold; the other tall and stately, her rich cloak falling gracefully round her slender figure.