Warren was no better dealt with than his mother. Sadly changed from the once robust sailor boy, he tramped the streets of Camden and Philadelphia in search of work. _Any_ work this time; any work but nursing! He applied to those who had been Mr. Whitman's most active friends when anything of note was going on, but no encouragement was given him; some went so far as to tell him that his services to his late patient had about incapacitated him for many kinds of employment. He solicited and applied, but no helping hand was held out to him. He took soap orders, then accepted the only thing that presented itself, the position of night watchman in a Camden bank. After awhile a tea merchant--one of the most kind-hearted of men and a friend of both his mother and Mr. Whitman--offered him a clerkship in his store. He would have preferred outside work, but had no choice and gladly accepted. In a year he married, and notwithstanding disappointments and discouragements, was the same bright cheerful Warry to the end of his short life. He died after a few days' sickness in October, 1899, aged thirty-three years. XIX THE TRIAL "_'Tis called ungrateful With dull unwillingness to repay a debt._" --SHAKESPEARE (_Richard III_). "_Proceed in justice, which shall have due course._" --(_The Winter's Tale_). But to go back. Mrs. Davis's friends, many of Mr. Whitman's, and a number of outsiders were disgusted and indignant at the treatment she had received and united in urging her to sue the estate and take her case into court. She was loath to do this, and hesitated for a long while; but in 1894 the unsolicited offer of an eminent judge to represent her without a fee (he said she was the worst used woman he had ever met) and the continued persuasions of her friends roused her at last to stand up for herself, and for once to take her own part. The loss of her money did not trouble her so much as the thought of what might be (and had been) said against her. She was confident that had Mrs. Whitman lived all would have been different. But Mrs. Whitman had not lived, and she had to face a problem that perplexed and saddened her, darkening her view of human nature, and throwing a shadow over the past and the future. The whole thing seemed so impossible, so hopelessly unfair.