a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed on the
floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring light
served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its wretchedness.
The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses about the pillow.
Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes deep-set and glowing,
as if all that was left of life was concentrated in them.

Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and walked
in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for she turned
her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not speak. Kornicker
went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took her hand in his. As
he did so he observed that it was very thin and shrunken, and that the
large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as fire. 'You're very ill,'
said he, in a low tone. 'I'm afraid you're very ill.'

'I'm dying of thirst,' said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher, which
stood on the floor. 'Give me water; the want of it is driving me mad. No
one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself, but could not
stand.'

Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out to a
pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled to the
brim. The girl's eye grew even more lustrous than before, as she saw it,
and she attempted to rise, but was unable.

'You must excuse ceremony,' said Kornicker, as he placed his arm under her
back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips. 'Nursing
isn't in my line.'

The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the pillow
exhausted.

'Have you a doctor?' inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the floor.

'No,' answered she feebly; 'I have no money: the last went yesterday. I'm
deserted by all now.'

'Not quite,' exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his knee,
while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; 'not while I'm
left. I'm sorry I a'nt a woman, for your sake; but as I don't happen to
be, I hope you'll make no objections on that score; I'll look after you as
if you were my own sister.'

It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long time,
and the tears came in her eyes.

'There, there, don't cry,' said Kornicker. 'It bothers me; I don't know
what to do when women cry. But you haven't a doctor; that will never do.
Keep up your heart,' said he, rising; 'I'll return