rced the door. Burlingham's gas was lighted; he
was sitting up in bed--a haggard, disheveled, insane man, raving
on and on--names of men and women she had never heard--oaths,
disjointed sentences.

"Brain fever, I reckon," said the porter. "I'll call a doctor."

In a few minutes Susan was gladdened by the sight of a young man
wearing the familiar pointed beard and bearing the familiar
black bag. He made a careful examination, asked her many
questions, finally said:

"Your father has typhoid, I fear. He must be taken to a hospital."

"But we have very little money," said Susan.

"I understand," replied the doctor, marveling at the calmness of one
so young. "The hospital I mean is free. I'll send for an ambulance."

While they were waiting beside Burlingham, whom the doctor had
drugged into unconsciousness with a hypodermic, Susan said: "Can
I go to the hospital and take care of him?"

"No," replied the doctor. "You can only call and inquire how he
is, until he's well enough to see you."

"And how long will that be?"

"I can't say." He hadn't the courage to tell her it would be
three weeks at least, perhaps six or seven.

He got leave of the ambulance surgeon for Susan to ride to the
hospital, and he went along himself. As the ambulance sped
through the dimly lighted streets with clanging bell and heavy
pounding of the horse's hoofs on the granite pavement, Susan
knelt beside Burlingham, holding one of his hot hands. She was
remembering how she had said that she would die for him--and here
it was he that was dying for her. And her heart was heavy with
a load of guilt, the heaviest she was ever to feel in her life.
She could not know how misfortune is really the lot of human
beings; it seemed to her that a special curse attended her,
striking down all who befriended her.

They dashed up to great open doors of the hospital. Burlingham
was lifted, was carried swiftly into the receiving room. Susan
with tearless eyes bent over, embraced him lingeringly, kissed
his fiery brow, his wasted cheeks. One of the surgeons in white
duck touched her on the arm.

"We can't delay," he said.

"No indeed," she replied, instantly drawing back.

She watched the stretcher on wheels go noiselessly down the
corridor toward the elevator and when it was gone she still
continued to look. "You can come at any hour to inquire," said
the young doctor who had accompanied her. "Now we'll go into the
office and have t