'Come, come,' said Harson, kindly, 'you mustn't bear malice. I did not act well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show that you do so, you must take this loan from me.' 'I don't wish to borrow,' replied Kornicker. 'Well, I'm sorry for it,' said Harson, taking his hand; 'but you're not angry?' 'No no, old fellow; it's not an easy matter to keep angry with you; you're a trump!' 'Perhaps you'll sup with me when we return?' said the old man, earnestly. 'I'll see how the girl is,' replied Kornicker; 'good bye. We're losing time.' Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they set out at a rapid pace for the girl's abode. They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the part of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk. Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the girl, had induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of the offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive elderly person, who could not resent the affront. 'Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?' said the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl's abode, and listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and along the entry. 'Come on, and you'll see,' replied Kornicker; and seizing him by the arm, he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at the girl's room. 'Look in there, if you want to see comfort,' said he, with an irony that seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it. 'Isn't that a sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every thing that money could buy?' The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his companion. 'Come, come,' said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker's hand; 'don't give way to these feelings. She'll be well taken care of now. Harry Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.' He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl seemed sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held it so that the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently upon her wrist. He kept it there for some moments, then held up the light again, and looked at her face; after which he placed it on the floor, rose up, and took a long survey of the room. 'It's a wretched place,' said he, speaking in a whisper. 'She must have suffered terribly here.' 'This is the way the poor live,' said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone; 'this is the way _she_ has lived; but we'll save her from dying so.' The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip: 'What are you going to do for her?' demanded Kornicker, after a pause: 'have you medicine with you?' 'She requires nothing now,' said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above a whisper. 'She's dead!'