She was cowering at the foot of the monument, her face buried in her hands, when the Doctor touched her on the shoulder. She started and turned up to him the saddest face the old physician had ever seen. "What's the matter, my girl?" he said as kindly as he could. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands again. "Please go away and let me alone." "Come, come," said the Doctor laying his hand on her shoulder again. "This won't do; you must tell me what's wrong. You can't stay out here on the street at this time of the night." At his tone she raised her head again. "This time of the night! What difference does it make to anyone whether I am on the street or not?" "It makes a big difference to you, my girl," the Doctor answered. "You should be home and in bed." God! What a laugh she gave! "Home! In bed!" She laughed again. "Stop that!" said the physician sharply, for he saw that just a touch more, and she would be over the line. "Stand up here and tell me what's the matter; are you sick?" She rose to her feet with his help. "No sir." "Well, what have you been doing?" "Nothing, Doctor. I--I was just walking around." "Why don't you go back to the Hotel? You are working there, are you not?" At this she wrung her hands and looked about in a dazed way, but answered nothing. "See here, Grace," said the physician, "you know me, surely--old Doctor Oldham, can't you tell me what it is that's wrong?" She made no answer. "Come, let me take you to the Hotel," he urged; "it's only a step." "No--no," she moaned, "I can't go there. I don't live there any more." "Well where do you live now?" he asked. "Over in Old Town." "But why did you leave your place at the Hotel?" "A--a man there said something that I didn't like, and then the proprietor told me that I must go, because some of the people were talking about me, and I was giving the Hotel a bad name. Oh, Doctor, I ain't a bad girl, I ain't never been, but folks are driving me to it. That or--or--" she hesitated. What could he say? "It's the same everywhere I try to work," she continued in a hopeless tone. "At the canning factory the other girls said their folks wouldn't let them work there if I didn't go. I haven't been able to earn a cent since I left the Hotel. I don't know what to do,--oh, I don't know what to do!" She broke down crying. "Look here, why didn't you come to me?" the Doctor asked roughly. "You knew you could come to me. Didn't I tell you to?" "I--I was afraid. I'm afraid of everybody." She shivered and looked over her shoulder. The Doctor saw that this thing had gone far enough. "Come with me," he said. "You must have something to eat." He started to lead her across the street toward Mrs. Mulhall whom he could see at the gate watching them. But the girl hung back. "No, no," she panted in her excitement. "Not there, I dare not go there." The Doctor hesitated. "Well, come to my house then," he said. She went as far as the gate then she stopped again.