Mrs. Parkes, overcome at this unusual display of filial affection, put her handkerchief to her eyes. Whimpering, she said: "You know, Harry, I always did like that girl. There's something about her one can't help liking. She came here from the swellest hotel on Fifth Avenue and took what we gave her without a murmur. At first I thought she was a leading lady out of an engagement, until I found that she went down to the slums every day and worked among the poor. I tell you I was kinder scared when she told me about her lawsuit. Two years ago I had a young lady who occupied the front parlor and back--and private bath, too. She was a show girl, and she ran up five hundred dollars on the strength of a lawsuit she had against a Wall Street man for breach of promise. She lost the case and I lost my money." With a sigh she went on: "It was your father's fault. He advised me to trust her, but this one's different. Yes, quite different." She stopped and burst into tears: "Harry, my boy, you're all I have. I don't want to lose you--I don't----" Harry looked distressed. "Now--now--don't cry," he said. "You won't lose me. You'll get a daughter--that's all." "God knows I've always wanted a daughter!" "Well, let me pick one out for you. I think my judgment is better than yours." The little door opposite which Harry had been watching so eagerly suddenly opened, and a young woman quietly entered the sitting room. It was Paula Marsh, dressed in her street clothes. She nodded to mother and son in a friendly but reserved manner, and was about to pass out through another door into the outer hall without speaking when she seemed to remember something. Opening a small bag, she said amiably: "Oh, Mrs. Parkes, I was looking for you. I've just come in. Here is what I owe you. I am sorry----" Mrs. Parkes, all flustered, rose from the chair. "Oh, please--not now--there's no hurry--not just now. You look so tired--sit down a moment and rest yourself." Paula smiled at her landlady's solicitude, and, taking off her hat and coat, thrust some money in the elder woman's hand. "Yes--yes--I insist," she said. "I've been downtown all morning, waiting for my lawyer in a stuffy little office--and even then I didn't succeed in seeing Mr. Ricaby. Nothing makes one so tired as failing to do what one starts out to do." "Sit down, dear, and rest yourself," said Mrs. Parkes, proceeding to bustle about. "Let me get you a cup of tea--now, do--you look so tired!" "Don't say that, please," protested the young girl. "It makes me feel ten times more tired than I really am." "But I insist. The water is boiling," said the landlady, hurrying out of the room. "I won't be a moment. A nice cup of tea is just the thing. Harry will keep you company while I'm gone." With a mischievous wink at her son, she added, as she disappeared: "Won't you, Harry--like a good boy?" CHAPTER VII.