“I guess so. We could help her, you know. But, Hosy, what cab? What do you mean? What are you going to do?” “I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm going to take her away from this hole. I must. I don't want to; there's no reason why I should and every reason why I shouldn't; but--Oh, well, confound it! I've got to. We CAN'T let her starve and die here.” “But where are you going to take her?” “There's only one place to take her; that's to Bancroft's. I've 'phoned and engaged a room next to ours. She'll have to stay with us for the present. Oh, I don't like it any better than you do.” To my intense surprise, Hephzy threw her arms about my neck and hugged me. “I knew you would, Hosy!” she sobbed. “I knew you would. I was dyin' to have you, but I wouldn't have asked for the world. You're the best man that ever lived. I knew you wouldn't leave poor Ardelia's little girl to--to--Oh, I'm so grateful. You're the best man in the world.” I freed myself from the embrace as soon as I could. I didn't feel like the best man in the world. I felt like a Quixotic fool. Fortunately I was too busy for the next hour to think of my feelings. Hephzy went in to arrange for the transfer of the invalid to the cab and to collect and pack her most necessary belongings. I spent my time in a financial wrangle with Mrs. Briggs. The number of items which that woman wished included in her bill was surprising. Candles and soap--the bill itself was the sole evidence of soap's ever having made its appearance in that house--and washing and tea and food and goodness knows what. The total was amazing. I verified the addition, or, rather, corrected it, and then offered half of the sum demanded. This offer was received with protestations, tears and voluble demands to know if I 'ad the 'art to rob a lone widow who couldn't protect herself. Finally we compromised on a three-quarter basis and Mrs. Briggs receipted the bill. She said her kind disposition would be the undoing of her and she knew it. She was too silly and soft-'arted to let lodgings. We had very little trouble in carrying or leading Little Frank to the cab. The effect of the doctor's powders--they must have contained some sort of opiate--was to render the girl only partially conscious of what was going on and we got her to and into the vehicle without difficulty. During the drive to Bancroft's she dozed on Hephzy's shoulder. Her room--it was next to Hephzy's, with a connecting door--was ready and we led her up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson were very kind and sympathetic. They asked surprisingly few questions. “Poor young lady,” said Mr. Jameson, when he and I were together in our sitting-room. “She is quite ill, isn't she.” “Yes,” I admitted. “It is not a serious illness, however. She needs quiet and care more than anything else.” “Yes, sir. We will do our best to see that she has both. A relative of yours, sir, I think you said.”