“No wonder you don't 'see,'” he said, interpreting her thoughts. “But in this case the sick person gets but an hour's care, perhaps, a day. The nurse goes from house to house, doing what she can in a little time. She has to divide up her care, you see. But it is a merciful work--a merciful work.” Gloria's face was thoughtful. Treeless Street haunted her. “Do you know a street that hasn't a single tree on it, Uncle Em? The awfulest street! Just children and children and children and tenement houses. I suppose I've been by it hundreds of times, but I never saw it till to-day. It must have a name to it.” “What do you want to know its name for, my dear? It isn't the kind of a street to run about on!” Uncle Em laughed. To Gloria the note of uneasiness in his voice was not noticeable. She nodded a gay little good-by and was gone. CHAPTER II. After leaving her uncle's office the fancy seized Gloria to walk home instead of taking a car. She would find Treeless Street and explore it--perhaps meet the neat little figure of the District Nurse somewhere in its dismal depths. She wanted to know more of this new manner of helping people an hour a day. It was characteristic of Gloria to indulge her fancies and to find out what she wished to know. She walked slowly away, searching every cross street for the special one she wanted. They were all dismal streets for a little way, but none of them were absolutely devoid of trees. Scanty grass-spots relieved their dreariness, and the swarms of children were comfortably enough dressed. It was some little time before Gloria reached Treeless Street, but when she did, she knew it at once. Without hesitation she turned into it. Topply tenement after tenement--was there no end to them? Was there no end to the children with little old faces? Babies trundled other babies in rickety carts; the clamor of sharp little voices filled the street. Gloria, in a new world, threaded her way among the children and thought her new thoughts. They were confused, unwelcome thoughts, but she entertained them valiantly. “Think of coming here every day, perhaps, and living right along!” A small boy in grotesque man-trousers, reefed and rolled, intruded himself and his baby-charge in her way. Gloria gazed down into the boy's face with a sort of fascination. He was so small, yet had such a protecting way with the baby. “What is your name, little man?” she asked. “Dinney. What's the name o' youse?” Gloria ignored the question. “Is this your little brother?” gently. “Well, I guess!” said the boy. “Can he walk?” more gently still. “Yep, o' course--I mean when his legs gets stronger he'll walk, won't youse, Hunkie? De doctor-woman says as wot he needs is plenty o' milk. Wid its coat on--Hunkie ain't never had none wid its coat on till de doctor-woman come.”