"It is a singular case," said the policeman, "her language is good, her appearance might be ladylike. But, see." The man pointed with a meaning smile at the symmetrical feet in their loose slippers. The blue veins were swelling under the white surface, and there was a faint spasmodic quiver of the muscles that seemed to spread over her whole frame. "I can hardly believe that this is intoxication," said the stranger, gazing compassionately on the prostrate woman. "She must be ill--taken down suddenly in the street." "But how came she barefooted? and her hair, it has not been done up in a week? I'm afraid we can't make out a clear case, sir." "But where will you take her?" "Home, if she can tell us where it is--to the Tombs, if she is so far gone as not to know," replied the man. "The Tombs!" "Oh, that is the City Prison, sir." "I know, but the City Prison is no place for a person like this!" "Well, if you can point out anything better." "If I had a home in the city, this poor creature should never sleep in a prison," was the answer. "Oh, I thought you must be a stranger," was the half compassionating reply. "It takes some time before one gets used to these sights, but they are common enough, I can tell you, sir. Now let us see if she can be made to comprehend what we say." With that sort of half-contemptuous interest with which the insane are sometimes cajoled, the policeman began to question the invalid; but she only asked him very earnestly if her husband had come; and turning her face from the hot sunshine that was pouring upon her, began to complain piteously that they had laid her down there to be consumed by a storm of fire-flakes that was dropping upon her neck and forehead. "You see the poor creature can tell us nothing; she is quite beside herself," said the policeman. "I must take her to the prison--it is the best I can do--to-morrow her friends may claim her, perhaps. At the worst she will only be committed for a day or two." "Wait here," said the stranger, hurriedly, "wait till I get a carriage; she must not be taken through the streets in this state," and the kind man went off in haste. The officer looked after him smiling. "You might know that he was from the country, poor fellow," he muttered, turning his back upon the sun, and good-naturedly sheltering Mrs. Chester from its rays. "After all, I hope he is right; there is something about her that one does not often meet with! upon my word I hope she is only sick." The stranger came back with a carriage, a showy and rather expensive affair, the cushions covered with fresh linen, and the driver quite an aristocrat in his way. "So that is the fun, is it?" he said, eyeing poor Mrs. Chester with a look of superb disdain. "I don't, as a usual thing, take people up from the sidewalks in this carriage, my good friend." "But I will pay you--I have paid you in advance," urged the stranger.