d his money-bags locked up long enough, would die, and
then you'd see who'd be advertised for. Some idlers looked in vain into
the city directory to see if Mr. John Richling were mentioned there.
But Richling himself did not see the paper. His employers, or some
fellow-clerk, might have pointed it out to him, but--we shall see in a
moment.

Time passed. It always does. At length, one morning, as Dr. Sevier lay
on his office lounge, fatigued after his attentions to callers, and much
enervated by the prolonged summer heat, there entered a small female
form, closely veiled. He rose to a sitting posture.

"Good-morning, Doctor," said a voice, hurriedly, behind the veil.
"Doctor," it continued, choking,--"Doctor"--

"Why, Mrs. Richling!"

He sprang and gave her a chair. She sank into it.

"Doctor,--O Doctor! John is in the Charity Hospital!"

She buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed aloud. The Doctor was
silent a moment, and then asked:--

"What's the matter with him?"

"Chills."

It seemed as though she must break down again, but the Doctor stopped
her savagely.

"Well, my dear madam, don't cry! Come, now, you're making too much of a
small matter. Why, what are chills? We'll break them in forty-eight
hours. He'll have the best of care. You needn't cry! Certainly this
isn't as bad as when you were there."

She was still, but shook her head. She couldn't agree to that.

"Doctor, will you attend him?"

"Mine is a female ward."

"I know; but"--

"Oh--if you wish it--certainly; of course I will. But now, where have
you moved, Mrs. Richling? I sent"-- He looked up over his desk toward
that of Narcisse.

The Creole had been neither deaf nor idle. Hospital? Then those children
in Prieur street had told him right. He softly changed his coat and
shoes. As the physician looked over the top of the desk Narcisse's
silent form, just here at the left, but out of the range of vision,
passed through the door and went downstairs with the noiselessness of a
moonbeam.

Mary explained the location and arrangement of her residence.

"Yes," she said, "that's the way your clerk must have overlooked us. We
live behind--down the alleyway."

"Well, at any rate, madam," said the Doctor, "you are here now, and
before you go I want to"-- He drew out his pocket-book.

There was a quick gesture of remonstrance and a look of pleading.

"No, no, Doctor, please don't! please don't! Give my poor husband one
more chance;