Mary pushed her out of the room and turned to the patient, who was lying on the bed. "Don't be a bit frightened," said Mary. "I don't believe you're very sick. Keep still and I'll undress you." She felt quite composed and wholly in command of herself; it was as if she were doing something entirely commonplace and all planned in advance. "It--it isn't just being sick," said Miss Norcross weakly. "I'm not afraid of that. It's the job--the money. I need it so. Oh, please--don't bother. I can take off my own shoes." "Keep still," ordered Mary. "We'll have the doctor very soon." "Doctor!" moaned the patient. "That's more money." "Stop talking about money. Be quiet. Would you like a drink of water?" When Mary returned with a glass she found her patient sitting up, staring at her with frightened eyes that were luminous with fever. "I've got to talk about money!" she exclaimed. "Why, I haven't even five dollars to my name." "There, there, my dear," said Mary. "Don't let it worry you. Neither have I." It had cost her nearly three dollars to pay the restaurant check and the taxi-driver, but that pang had passed. She was amazed at her own indifference. "But, don't you understand? I'm going to be sick--sick! And who's going to pay for it all? I _won't_ be a charity patient; I _won't_ go to a hospital. And my job! I've been trying so long and--and just when I get one--such a wonderful chance--I--oh, it's going to drive me mad, I tell you." "Never mind; there'll be other chances. Perhaps the lady will wait. Drink your water." But Miss Norcross pushed the glass aside. "Jobs never wait," she moaned. "People always have to wait for jobs. That's what I've been doing, and now--now--oh, isn't it simply fiendish? And my head aches so!" "Of course, dear. But never mind. I'll see you through. Perhaps I'll get a job myself, and----" The sick girl gripped Mary's arm tensely. "My job!" she whispered. "You'll take mine!" Mary smiled rather wanly. "I couldn't do that, of course," she said. "I haven't references--and they're expecting you. But I'll find something else; I'm sure of it." She was anything but sure of it; she was quite certain it would be otherwise. But it was her duty, she felt, to make a brave front. "No, no, no! You _must_ take mine. Oh, can't you see----" There was a knock, followed by a doctor. He seemed to be in a hurry, yet for all that he was quite positive about things. No, it wasn't contagious. The landlady vanished from the threshold to spread the joyous news down-stairs. But she was a sick girl, none the less. There would be ten days in bed, at the very least. She needed medicine, of course he would leave prescriptions. And there must be a special diet. There really ought to be a nurse. And--well, he would look in again that evening; he would decide about the nurse then. Miss Norcross was sitting up again as the door closed behind him.