Susan turned the bundle over in her lap, thrust her fingers slowly and deliberately into the fold of the soiled blouse which was on the outside. She drew out the money. A ten and two fives. Enough to keep his room at the hospital for two weeks. No, for she must live, herself. Enough to give him a room one week longer and to enable her to live two weeks at least. . . . And day after tomorrow--more. Perhaps, soon--enough to see him through the typhoid. She put the money in her bosom, rose and went on toward the hospital. She no longer felt weary, and the sensation of a wound that might ache if she were not so numb passed away. A clerk she had not seen before was at the barrier desk. "I came to ask how Mr. Burlingham is," said she. The clerk yawned, drew a large book toward him. "Burlingham--B--Bu--Bur----" he said half to himself, turning over the leaves. "Yes--here he is." He looked at her. "You his daughter?" "No, I'm a friend." "Oh--then--he died at five o'clock--an hour ago." He looked up--saw her eyes--only her eyes. They were a deep violet now, large, shining with tragic softness--like the eyes of an angel that has lost its birthright through no fault of its own. He turned hastily away, awed, terrified, ashamed of himself. CHAPTER XVIII THE next thing she knew, she felt herself seized strongly by the arm. She gazed round in a dazed way. She was in the street--how she got there she had no idea. The grip on her arm--it was the young doctor, Hamilton. "I called you twice," explained he, "but you didn't hear." "He is dead," said she. Hamilton had a clear view of her face now. There was not a trace of the child left. He saw her eyes--quiet, lonely, violet stars. "You must go and rest quietly," he said with gentleness. "You are worn out." Susan took from her bosom the twenty dollars, handed it to him. "It belongs to him," said she. "Give it to them, to bury him." And she started on. "Where are you going?" asked the young man. Susan stopped, looked vaguely at him. "Good-by," she said. "You've been very kind." "You've found a boarding place?" "Oh, I'm all right." "You want to see him?" "No. Then he'll always be alive to me." "You had better keep this money. The city will take care of the funeral." "It belong to him. I couldn't keep it for myself. I must be going." "Shan't I see you again?" "I'll not trouble you." "Let me walk with you as far as your place." "I'm not feeling--just right. If you don't mind--please--I'd rather be alone." "I don't mean to intrude, but----" "I'm all right," said the girl. "Don't worry about me." "But you are too young----" "I've been married. . . . Thank you, but--good-by."