It was not the first time May had listened to such counsels; and she was well aware that, should her aunt die prematurely, she herself would again be homeless. Miss Waller was not the woman to deny herself in order to save money for her niece. She must have the fine house and carriage, the handsome dress, and the dinner-parties which her soul loved; and she found May very useful in arranging flowers, writing letters, and making not a few articles of personal adornment for her aunt with her clever fingers. Their nearest way home lay through the quiet street in which Harold Inglis lived--or, rather, starved--and, as he chanced to be at the surgery window mixing a powder, he saw the carriage driving by. The sinking sun was burnishing May's golden-brown hair; and her profile, beneath her gauzy hat, looked very fair and sweet. He sighed, as he went back to his powder, for the contrast between her lot and his own seemed a little too glaring. He did not know that all the time she had only sixpence in her purse, while he could actually boast of half-a-crown! CHAPTER II. Two Heavy Hearts. Doris was never allowed to partake of meals with Miss Waller, who disliked having to regulate her conversation according to inquisitive childish ears. The little girl lived in the upper regions with Mary, who divided the duties of lady's maid and nurse. After breakfast one morning, May, having done what was required by Miss Waller, went upstairs to give Doris the lessons which, so far, formed her sole instruction. She found the child flushed and heated after a combat with Mary. "She's that cross, I can't do anything with her," grumbled the maid, who dutifully imitated her mistress in hating children. "She wouldn't eat her nice egg at breakfast, and she's pulled all her dolly's hair off--see." "I'm afraid she's not well," said the mother gravely, as the child buried her face in May's skirt, sobbing fretfully. Her little hands were burning, her cheeks flushed, and red spots showed on the peach-like skin. "Ask Miss Waller if Jane may go for the doctor," May continued, dreading lest she had taken measles. Miss Waller gave permission to summon the family physician, Dr. Ellis, who was the most fashionable practitioner in Beachbourne, and drove his carriage and pair; but Jane returned to say that both the doctor and his partner were out. "Then go and fetch the nearest doctor at once!" commanded Miss Waller. "I must know whether it's infectious or not, so that I may take precautions. How vexing it will be," she complained to her niece, "if Doris is laid up for weeks, and the house placed in quarantine, just as all the gaieties are beginning! There's the Mowbrays' dinner next week, and Lady Lee's picnic, and the Clares' musical party--oh, dear!" Not a word of sympathy for the poor child! May clenched her hands passionately in her struggle to restrain an angry reply. It was in moments like this that her shackles seemed absolutely intolerable.