"Miss Farwell, I am sorry that I was forced to send for you, but you can see that there was nothing else to do. I knew you would come without loss of time, and I dared not leave her without a white woman in the room." He paused and went to the bedside. "Poor, poor little girl. She tried so hard to die, nurse; she will try again the moment she regains consciousness. These good colored people would do anything for her, but she must see one of her own race when she opens her eyes." He paused seemingly at a loss for words. Miss Farwell spoke for the first time, "She is a good girl, Doctor? Not that it matters you know, but--" Dr. Harry spoke positively, "Yes, she is a good girl; it is not that, nurse." "Then how--" Miss Farwell glanced around the room. "Then why is she here?" No one ever heard Dr. Harry Abbott speak a bitter word, but there was a strange note in his voice as he answered slowly, "She is here because there seems to be no other place for her to go. She did this because there seemed to be nothing else for her to do." Then briefly he related the sad history of this good girl with a bad reputation. "Dr. Oldham and I tried to help her," he said, "but some ugly stories got started and somehow Grace heard them. After that she avoided us." For a little while there was silence in the room. When Dr. Harry again turned from his patient to the nurse, Miss Farwell was busily writing upon his tablet of prescription blanks with a stub of a pencil which she had taken from her pocket. The doctor watched her curiously for a moment, then arose, and taking his hat, said briskly: "I will not keep you longer than an hour Miss Farwell. I think I know of a woman whom I can get for today at least, and perhaps by tonight we can find someone else, or arrange it somehow. I'll be back in plenty of time, so don't worry. Your train does not go until ten-thirty, you know. If the woman can't come at once, I'll ask Dr. Oldham to relieve you." The nurse looked at him with smiling eyes, "I am very sorry, Dr. Abbott, if I am not giving satisfaction," she said. The physician returned her look with amazement, "Not giving satisfaction! What in the world do you mean?" "Why you seem to be dismissing me," she answered demurely. "I understood that you sent for me to take this case." At the light that broke over his face she dropped her eyes and wrote another line on the paper before her. "Do you mean--" he began, then he stopped. "I mean," she answered, "that unless you send me away I shall stay on duty." "But Dr. Miles--that case in Chicago. I understood from you that it was very important." She smiled at him again. "There is nothing so important as the thing that needs doing now," she answered. "And," she finished slowly, turning her eyes toward the unconscious girl on the bed--"I do seem to be needed here." "And you understand there will be no--no fees in this case?" he asked.