"My dear girl, if I didn't take something to keep me awake, I'd fall asleep in my chair at ten o'clock, and the subscribers to the evening issue would never learn the hygienic value of regular hours and a sufficient amount of recreation." "But you will wreck yourself," urged Mariana. "Nonsense. This caffeine is going to take Isolde and yourself to the country." "And you?" "I--oh, don't worry about me! I am all right." And he would begin work with a pretence of alacrity, keeping to it until drowsiness warned him of physical exhaustion, when he would pause, stretch himself, measure his dose of caffeine, and, lifting his pen, dog away until past midnight. It was an afternoon shortly after this that Mariana came to him flushed and expectant. "Signor Morani sent for me," she explained. "I left Isolde with a daughter of the laundress and went. He has offered me an engagement in a comic opera." Algarcife started and looked up. "It seems that the manager heard me sing one day when I was at my lesson. He liked my dramatic power, Signor Morani says. At any rate, one of his troupe has given out, and he offers me the part." "But, Mariana--" Mariana did not look at him, but went rapidly on, as if waiving possible objections. "We need the money. It might take Isolde away--and it is a chance. I am so young, you see--and--" "Mariana!" cried Algarcife, sharply. There was a note in his voice which caused her to shrink away as if he had struck her. "Mariana," he put out his hand in protest, "you shall not do it. I will not let you. I could not bear it." Mariana tapped her foot upon the floor impatiently. "I believe it is a child's part," she said. "You shall not do it," he said, passionately. Mariana turned her eyes upon him. "But the money?" "Oh, we will arrange it. I will leave The Gotham and take a room down-town, and you and Isolde shall go." "Very well," said Mariana, sullenly, and left the room. The next few days brought a wave of heat, and Algarcife made arrangements to send Mariana and the child away. He gave notice at The Gotham, and secured a room upon Fourth Street, and in spare moments assisted Mariana with the packing. Then there was some delay in the payment for the articles he had written, and Mariana's departure was postponed. "Get your things ready," said Algarcife, when the heat grew more intense and Isolde drooped. "The moment that the money arrives, you can start. It was due a week ago." So Mariana continued her packing with nervous hands. She was divided between anxiety for Anthony and anxiety for the child, and she was profoundly depressed on her own account. "If it wasn't for Isolde, I wouldn't go a step," she declared, standing before a trunk into which she was putting cans of baby's milk. "I feel as if I could weep gallons of tears--only I haven't time." Miss Ramsey, who was rocking Isolde, smiled encouragingly. "The change will do you good," she responded, "and I am sure you need it. You are quite ghastly."