anxious questions.

"It is nothing; indeed, it is nothing. I am a foolish coward, and I was
frightened walking through the city, and then the sight of a home-face
upset me."

"But, Janet, why are you here? Is anything wrong about the works, the
men? Did Mr. Hammond send you down?"

"No, indeed, no! it was only a fancy of mine to see the world. I am
tired of that lonely life, and you know I am not needed there. My mother
can get along without me, and I am only a burden to my father."

"Not needed? Why, Janet, what will the Sandy country be without you?"

My eyes filled up with tears again.

"Don't ask me any more questions, dear Tom; only help me for a little
while, till I can help myself. I want to earn my living somehow, but I
have money enough to live upon till I can find something to do. Only
find me a place to stay quietly in while I am looking for work. You are
the only person I know in this great city; and who will help me, if you
do not?"

"You know I will help you with my whole heart and soul, Janet," he said,
his voice faltering.

I looked up, and in one moment rushed back upon me the remembrance of
his words that day in the boat, and I stood aghast at the new trouble
that seemed to rise before me. My voice must have changed as I said,--

"I only want you to find me a place to live in; I can take care of
myself"; for his countenance fell, and he sat silent for some moments.

At last he spoke:--

"I know I cannot do much, Janet, but what I can I will. And, first, I
will take you to the house of a widow-woman who has a room to let; one
of our men wanted me to take it, but it was too far from my work. I went
to see the place, though, and it is quiet and respectable; the woman
looks kind, too. Would you walk slowly down the street, while I go to
the office and get my coat?"--he was in his working-dress,--"and then
I'll join you."

I got up, feeling that I had chilled him in some way, and reproaching
myself for it. When he rejoined me, we walked silently on, till, after
many a turning, we found ourselves in a narrow, quiet street, before a
small house, with a tiny yard in front. I do not know how the matter was
arranged; he did it all for me. There was the introducing me to a
motherly-looking person, as a friend of his from the country; the going
up a narrow staircase to look at a small room of which all that could be
said was that it was neat and clean; the bargaining for my board, in
which I was ob