Dido, unmindful of his brutal threats, turned her attention to Maggie, who in a short time opened her eyes and tried to rise. “Lie still awhile yet, Maggie,” urged her self-appointed nurse. “I’ll hold your head on my knee. Don’t you feel better now?” But the girl made no reply. Her small gray eyes stared unblinkingly, unseeingly, up at the smoked rafters of the ceiling. “What is it, Maggie?” asked the kindly Dido, smoothing the wet, tangled hair, her slender fingers expressing the sympathy which found no utterance in words. “Are you still ill? Shall I take you home to your mother?” The stare in the small gray eyes grew softer and softer; the corners of the mouth drew down into a pitiful curve, the under lip quivering like a tiny leaf in a strong wind; turning her face down, she sobbed vehemently. Drawing the poor thin body into a closer embrace, Dido sought to comfort the weeping girl. Some of the nearest workers hearing those low, heavy sobs, started nervously, and their hands were not as cunning as usual as they covered the boxes, but they dared not go near their unhappy companion or speak the sympathy they felt. “I’m awfully sorry, Maggie,” whispered Dido, “don’t cry so; you’ll feel better by-and-by.” “Mother’s dead,” blurted out Maggie. Dido was stunned into silence by this communication. She could say nothing. What could you say to a girl when her mother is dead? What could console a girl at such a time? Maggie told Dido that the dead body of her mother, who, for a year past, had been confined to her bed with consumption, was lying alone, uncared for, at home. “I loved her so, and I didn’t want her to die,” she said pitifully. “I was afraid to go home after work for fear I’d find her dead, and I was afraid to sleep at night for fear she’d be dead when I woke up. She lay so still, and she looked so white and death-like, and I would lean on my elbow and watch her, fearing her breath would stop. Every few moments I prayed, ‘O God, save her!’ ‘O God, have mercy!’ I--I couldn’t say more, and I would swallow down the thing that would choke my throat and wink away the tears that would come, and watch and watch, until I couldn’t bear the doubt any longer, then I would touch her gently with my foot to see if she was still warm, and that would wake her, and I would be so sorry. “All last night I never took my eyes off her dear face,” Maggie continued between her sobs, and Dido was softly crying, too, then.