way, on one of the
best-known side streets near Union Square, where business signs were few
and of the most decorous order, and where before one door, bearing the
name of one of the best-known fashionable dressmakers, a line of
carriages stood each day during the busy season. A name hardly less
known was on the door-plate of the great house before which she sat, and
which still bore every mark of prosperous ownership, while from one of
the windows looked the elaborately dressed head of Madame herself, the
anxiety in her eyes contradicting the scornful smile on her thin lips.
The door just beyond No. -- opened, and a stout gentleman descended one
step and stood eying the policeman belligerently. That official looked
up the street as if wishing for cry of "murder" or "stop thief" around
the corner, but hearing neither, concentrated again on the antagonist
whose irregular methods defied precedent and gave him a painful sense of
insecurity. If two could listen, why not three?--and I paused near the
steps, eyed considerately by the stout gentleman, who was evidently on
the outlook for allies. A look of intelligence passed between Madame and
the policeman, and her head disappeared from the window, a blind on the
second story moving slightly and announcing a moment later that she had
taken a less conspicuous post of observation.

"Move on now, I tell you!" began the policeman again, but paused, for as
he spoke a slender, bright-eyed girl came swiftly toward them, and
paused on the first step with a glance of curiosity at the little group.

"Have you come to answer Madame M----'s advertisement?" the little woman
said, as she rose from the steps and laid her hand detainingly on the
hurrying figure.

"Yes," the girl answered hesitatingly, pulling away from the hand that
held.

"Then, unless you've got anything else to do and like to give your time
and strength for naught, keep away. You'll get no wages, no matter
what's promised. I've been there six months, kept on by fair promises,
and I know. I'll let no girl go in there without warning."

"It's a good-looking place," the girl said doubtfully.

"It's a den of thieves all the same. If you don't believe me, come down
to the Woman's Protective Union on Clinton Place, and you'll see my case
on the book there, and judgment against this woman, that's no more mercy
than a Hottentot and lies that smoothly that she'd humbug an angel of
light. Ah! that's good!" she added, for the g