s Bernardine was
expecting? If so, walk right up. She is waiting for you."

CHAPTER VIII.

"OH, I AM SO GLAD THAT YOU HAVE COME, DOCTOR!"

Doctor Jay Gardiner, with as much speed as possible, made his way up the
long, steep flights of dark, narrow stairs, and through the still darker
passages, which were only lighted by the open doors here and there,
revealing rooms inhabited by half a dozen persons. They were all
talking, fighting or scrambling at the same time; and the odor of that
never-to-be-forgotten smell of frying onions and sausages greeted his
nostrils at every turn until it seemed to him that he must faint.

"Great heavens! how can so fair a young girl live in an atmosphere like
this?" he asked himself.

At length, almost exhausted, for he was unused to climbing, this
haughty, aristocratic young doctor found himself on the sixth floor of
the tenement house, and he knocked at the first door he came to.

It was opened by the young girl Bernardine. He could see at a glance
that her face bore the traces of trouble, and the dark eyes, still heavy
with unshed tears, showed signs of recent weeping.

"Oh, I am so glad that you have come, doctor!" she said, clasping her
little hands. "My poor father is so much worse. Please step in this
way!"

He was ushered into a little sitting-room, and as he entered it he saw
that everything was scrupulously neat and clean.

"Poor papa is out of his mind, doctor. Please come quickly, and see
him!"

It did not require a second glance for the doctor to understand all; and
straightway he proceeded to give the man a draught, which had the effect
of quieting him. The young girl stood by the man with clasped hands and
dilated eyes, scarcely breathing as she watched him.

The young doctor turned impulsively to the girl by his side.

"Pardon me for the question, but do you live alone with your father?" he
asked.

"Yes," she replied in a voice that thrilled him as the grandest,
sweetest music he had heard had never had power to do. "We have only
each other," she added, watching the distorted face on the pillow with
a fond wistfulness that made the young doctor, who was watching her,
almost envy the father.

"I will come again to-morrow," he said, "and prescribe for him. I have
done all the good that is possible for the present."

"Good-morning, Miss Moore," he said, standing with his hat in his hand,
and bowing before her as if she were a princess. "If you should