"Thank you heartily, Salome. I could implicitly trust your intentions, but the case is almost hopeless, and I fear you are too inexperienced to render it safe for me to commit the child to your care. I appreciate your kindness, but am too much interested in the boy to leave him when the disease is at its crisis, and a cup of coffee will strengthen me for the vigil. You have been to the Asylum this afternoon; tell me something about little Jessie." "She is still rather pale, but otherwise seems quite well again. Of course she is dissatisfied since Stanley has left, and thinks she ought to be allowed to follow his example; but I finally persuaded her to remain there patiently, at least for the present. It is well that the poor have their sensibilities blunted early in life, for they are spared many sorrows that afflict those who are pampered by fortune and rendered morbidly sensitive by years of indulgence and prosperity." A metallic ring had crept into her voice, hardening it, and although he could not distinctly see her countenance, he knew that the words came through set teeth. "Salome, I hope that I misunderstand you." "No; unfortunately, you thoroughly comprehend me. Dr. Grey, were you situated precisely as I find myself, do you suppose you would feel your degradation as little as I seem to do? Do you think you would relish the bread of charity as keenly as one, who, for courtesy's sake, shall be nameless? Could you calmly stand by, and with utter _sang froid_ see your brothers and sisters--your own flesh and blood--drift on every chance wave, like some sodden crust or withered weed on a stormy, treacherous sea? Would not your family pride bleed and die, and your self-respect wail and shrivel and expire?" "You have so grossly exaggerated and overcolored your picture that I recognize little likeness to reality."