Jay Gardiner turned resolutely away from the window, that he might not catch a look of the hotel. "I wonder if my patient, Miss Rogers, and the relative this girl speaks of are one and the same person?" he asked himself. He had once saved the life of this Miss Rogers, and since that time she had been a devoted friend of his. She was a most kind, estimable woman, and he admired her for her noble character. Surely she could not be the lady of whom Sally Pendleton spoke so derisively? He reached the city at last, and, without taking time to refresh himself, hurried to see who it was that needed his help. It was eleven o'clock, and the crowds on the streets of the great metropolis had begun to thin out. His office clerk, who was expecting him, said, in answer to his inquiry: "It is Miss Rogers, sir. She is dangerously ill, and will have no other doctor." "I will go to her at once," said Jay Gardiner. But at that moment a man who had been hurt in a railway accident was brought in, and he was obliged to devote half an hour of his valuable time in dressing his wounds. Then with all possible haste he set out on his journey. He gave orders to his driver to go to Miss Rogers' residence by the shortest route possible. At that very moment, in another part of the city, a woman who had once been young and beautiful lay dying. The room in which she lay was magnificent in its costly hangings; the lace draperies that hung from the windows represented a fortune, the carpets and rugs which covered the floor were of the costliest description. Rare paintings and the richest of bric-a-brac occupied the walls and other available places. Even the lace counterpane on the bed represented the expenditure of a vast sum of money. But the woman who lay moaning there in mortal pain would have given all to have purchased one hour of ease. "Has the doctor come yet, Mary?" she asked. "No," replied her faithful attendant, who bent over her. "But he can not be long now, my lady. It is several hours since we telegraphed for him, and I have telephoned for him every hour since. At the office they say that he has already started for here." "Are those carriage wheels? Go to the window, Mary, and see." The attendant glided noiselessly to the heavily draped window and drew aside the hangings. "No," she answered, gently; "he has not yet come." "Something must have happened, Mary," half-sobbed the sufferer; "I am sure of it." Ay, something out of the usual had happened to Doctor Gardiner. As his handsome brougham turned into Canal Street, the doctor, in looking from the window, noticed a young girl hurrying along the street. There was something about the symmetrical figure that caused the doctor to look a second time. He said to himself that she must be young; and a feeling of pity thrilled his heart to see one so young threading the streets at that hour of the night.