"No, Mrs. Hughes--it is I, Miss Marsh, with a friend."

Without waiting for further invitation, they pushed open the door and
went in.

A shocking scene of neglect and squalor met their eyes. In a dimly
lighted, poorly ventilated room about fourteen feet square, on a
tumble-down bed, covered with filthy rags, lay a woman past middle age,
apparently asleep. Her eyes were closed and she did not take the trouble
to turn her face as the visitors entered. The place, living room and
bedchamber in one, was indescribably and hopelessly dirty and littered
with broken furniture and rubbish of every description. It was really
the attic of the house, the low ceiling formed by the roof sloping down
to the front, where a small window looked into the street below. Half
the glass panes being broken and patched up with paper, only a poor
light entered the room, and this helped to partly conceal the
dirt-encrusted floor, torn, filthy bedding, and greasy stove piled up
with unwashed dishes. The foul air reeked with offensive odors of
decaying vegetation and bad drainage.

The woman on the bed started to cough, a violent cough which shook the
bed. When the spasm had passed she turned to see who had come in. Paula
she knew, but Tod was a stranger, yet her face expressed neither
surprise or embarrassment. The poor are accustomed to unceremonious
visits from Salvation Army workers and others, and they are so wretched
that they have ceased to care about anything. A faint smile came over
the invalid's pale, wan face.

"I thought it was Annie," she said. "She's been a long time gone. I had
to send her to the Dispensary to get some more medicine. My cough is
very bad to-day."

She stopped, seized again by a fit of coughing.

"I brought you a few little things, Mrs. Hughes," said Paula, laying
down the packages she had brought. At the same time she slipped a
five-dollar bill into the woman's hand. "Let Annie beat you up a
fresh-laid egg. It'll do your cough good. You must get all the
nourishment you can or you'll never get strong."

"God bless you, lady," murmured the sick woman. "Where would Annie and
me be to-day if it wasn't for you?"

"Where's your husband?" demanded Paula.

Mrs. Hughes shook her head feebly.

"I don't know," she whispered. "He never comes near me. He earns wages
now and again, but it all goes in whisky. The neighbors say he was
arrested last week and sent to the Island."

Paula turned to Tod.

"Isn't it fearf