rough the crowd to Patience, saw the futile
effort of Mrs. Welcome to take Elsie from the place. He heard Mary
Randall's brief direction and spoke reassuringly to the anguished mother
as he pressed a friendly hand on her slight shoulder.

"I will see that Spencer takes you to that boarding-house, where you will
be comfortable until you can get away. I will bring Patience. We may get
there before you arrive."

As John Boland foresaw, it was but a few moments after his own departure
before Harry Boland reached the street looking for a conveyance. He was
assisting Patience Welcome. Rather, she was clinging to him, sobbing like
a frightened child. The shooting that had interrupted her pathetic
attempt to sing was only part of the tragedy to her.

"I--I saw my little sister in there," she sobbed. "She called me by name.
And such a pathetic cry. Did you hear it?" Patience was sadly unnerved
and ill.

"Hush, dear one," Harry soothed her. "Your mother, Harvey and Miss
Randall are there, you know. Whatever can be done, they will do. You are
my one and only care, and just now, dearest girl, you're ill. I'll take
you to the place where your mother is going. Now, please stop crying;
try--try--everything will be all right."

A taxicab appeared, the chauffeur seemingly having anticipated that he
was wanted. Harry got in, half carrying Patience, and expecting to be
stopped by an officer. But no policeman seemed to see or hear him as he
gave the driver the address of the old-fashioned boarding-house selected
by Mary Randall.

They rode in silence. Patience sat apart from him, breathing deeply of
the fresh air at the window of the car as they rushed swiftly through the
city streets. Slowly he felt the tension of the situation released. It
was as if the dazed girl were freed from the physical mesh which had been
thrown about her.

Then she spoke quite calmly, in her natural voice, but very slowly:

"Harry, I once dreamed that I was in terrible trouble and that you came
and helped me. Are you sure I am not dreaming now?"

"Is it a happy dream, if you are, my darling?"

"I--I don't know," faltered Patience. "It is wonderful to be here
with--you."

"Do you trust me, Patience? Do you trust me when I tell you that I care
more for you than I ever knew I could care for anybody?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"I want to make you happy. I want to love you and work for you and have
you for my wife, and make a home with you."

"Harry!"