He found, however, waiting below, Roger, his man. With him there came a woman dressed in shabby finery. She was a woman of about thirty-two years of age, stout, and still comely; she looked about the room as if in search of some one; her face was eager and anxious. When she saw the Doctor, she put her handkerchief to her eyes and burst, or pretended to burst, into tears. "Alas, Doctor!" she cried, "I am truly ashamed to come in such a plight. But I have nothing else to put on. And Roger, good man, says that the gentleman will not wait. Who is the gentleman? Surely not Thomas Humpage, the mercer, who always promised to marry me when my husband should die, and now refuses because, although a warm man, he will not take upon him the burden of my poor debts. Alas! men are ever thus towards us poor women. Pray, Doctor, who is the gentleman? Far be it from me to keep the poor man waiting; and indeed, I was ever a pitiful woman, and----" "You are under a little mistake, madam," said the Doctor, interrupting her. "There is no gentleman here asking for you. Roger is an ass, and a pig." Roger made no reply. Excess of zeal frequently led him into mistakes. He stared straight before him, and modestly edged away in the direction of the door, so as to be out of reach both of the Doctor's fist, the weight of which he knew already, and the lady's nails. The poor woman's face fell, and real tears crowded into her eyes. Now the Doctor was a man who could not bear the sight of a woman crying, so he hastened to soothe her. "Your case, madam," he said, "hath awakened my commiseration. I have sent for you to know whether, should Roger be able to find a suitable husband, you would be willing to take him." "O Doctor!" she sobbed; "best of men! If only you can find me a husband, I should be grateful to the end of my days. I would marry any one--any one--even Roger." Roger swiftly vanished through the door. "He may be as old as Methusalem, and as ugly as a foreign Frenchman, but I would marry him--to take my place in the prison and go free once more." "Roger," said the Doctor, "is a great match-maker. He hath persuaded many couples into this room that never thought, when they went out to take the air and see the shops, of coming here. See, now, would the skipper of a merchantman serve your turn?" "Doctor, I love a sailor. They make confiding husbands, and they bring home money." "Once married, you are free. And then your creditors would have to catch your husband, who, if he is the handy tarpaulin that deserves you, will show them a clean pair of heels off the Nore. Madam, I will do my best. Meanwhile, perhaps a guinea would be of use to you." She cried in earnest as she took it. "O Doctor! the debts are not much altogether; a poor two hundred pounds. And a man may always be happy in the prison. There are skittles and beer. But a woman never can. And I would go to see him sometimes--say twice a year."