“We will have to take her home with us.” “Do you know what you are saying?” asked the other with a start; “that would be a fearful thing to do, Helen.” “I cannot help it,” she replied, “it is the only thing. And it would be wicked not to be willing to do that, because she is a woman.” “She is in a fearful way, dear,” said the other, hesitatingly; “and to ask you to take care of her--” “I would do anything sooner than let you take that walk in such darkness as this!” was the girl's reply; and with that statement she silenced all of his objections. And so at last David pressed her hand, and whispered, “Very well, dear, God will bless you for it.” Then for a while the two stood in silence, until Helen asked, “Do you think that we can carry her, poor creature?” “We may try it,” the other replied; and Helen went and knelt by the prostrate figure. The woman was muttering to herself, but she seemed to be quite dazed, and not to know what was going on about her. Helen did not hesitate any longer, but bent over and strove to lift her; the woman was fortunately of a slight build, and seemed to be very thin, so that with David's help it was easy to raise her to her feet. It was a fearful task none the less, for the poor wretch was foul with the mud in which she had been lying, and her wet hair was streaming over her shoulders; as Helen strove to lift her up the head sunk over upon her, but the girl bit her lips together grimly. She put her arm about the woman's waist, and David did the same on the other side, and so the three started, stumbling slowly along in the darkness. “Are you sure that it is not too much for you?” David asked; “we can stop whenever you like, Helen.” “No, let us go on,” the girl said; “she has almost no weight, and we must not leave her out here in the cold. Her hands are almost frozen now.” They soon made their way on down to where the lights of the little cottage shone through the trees. David could not but shrink back as he thought of taking their wretched burden into their little home, but he heard the woman groan feebly, and he was ashamed of his thought. Nothing more was said until they had climbed the steps, not without difficulty, and had deposited their burden upon the floor of the sitting room; after which David rose and sank back into a chair, for the strain had been a heavy one for him. Helen also sprang up as she gazed at the figure; the woman was foul with every misery that disease and sin can bring upon a human creature, her clothing torn to shreds and her face swollen and stained. She was half delirious, and clawing about her with her shrunken, quivering hands, so that Helen exclaimed in horror: “Oh God, that is the most dreadful sight I have ever seen in my life!” “Come away,” said the other, raising himself from the chair; “it is not right that you should look at such things.”