After getting warm, Bert returned to the sitting-room, and sat down at the parlor organ and played a gospel hymn or two from the Moody and Sankey hymnal. He was in the midst of the chorus of _Let Your Lower Lights_, etc., when a young woman entered the room. She had a whisk-broom in her hand, and stood a picture of gentle surprise. Bert wheeled about on his stool. "I thought it was Stella," she began. "I'm a book agent," Bert explained. "I might as well out with it. There are two of us. Come here to board." "Oh!" said the girl, with some relief. She was very fair and very slight, almost frail. Her eyes were of the sunniest blue, her face pale and somewhat thin, but her lips showed scarlet, and her teeth were fine. Bert liked her and smiled. "A book agent is the next thing to a burglar, I know; but still--" "Oh, I didn't mean that, but I _was_ surprised. When did you come?" "Just a few moments ago. Am I in your way?" he inquired, with elaborate solicitude. "Oh no! Please go on. You play very well. It is seldom young men play at all." "I had to at college; the other fellows all wanted to sing. You play, of course." "When I have time." She sighed. There was a weary droop in her voice; she seemed aware of it, and said more brightly: "You mean Madison, I suppose?" "Yes; I'm in my second year." "I went there two years. Then I had to quit and come home to help mother." "Did you? That's why I'm out here on this infernal book business--to get money to go on with." She looked at him with interest now, noticing his fine eyes and waving brown hair. "It's dreadful, isn't it? But you've got a hope to go back. I haven't." She ended with a sigh, a far-off expression in her eyes. "It almost killed me to give it up. I don't s'pose I'd know any of the scholars you know. Even the teachers are not the same. Oh, yes--Sarah Shaw; I think she's back for the normal course." "Oh yes!" exclaimed Bert, "I know Sarah. We boarded on the same street; used t' go home together after class. An awful nice girl, too." "She's a worker. She teaches school. I can't do that, for mother needs me at home." There was another pause, broken by the little girl, who called: "Maud, mamma wants you." Maud rose and went out, with a tired smile on her face that emphasized her resemblance to her mother. Bert couldn't forget that smile, and he was still thinking about the girl, and what her life must be, when Hartley came in. "By jinks! It's _snifty_, as dad used to say. You can't draw a long breath through your nostrils without freezing y'r nose solid as a bottle," he announced, throwing off his coat. "By-the-way, I've just found out why you was so anxious to get into this house. Another case o' girl, hey?" Bert blushed; he couldn't help it, notwithstanding his innocence in this case. "I didn't know it myself till about ten minutes ago," he protested. Hartley winked prodigiously. "Don't tell me! Is she pretty?" The girl returned at this moment with an armful of wood.