oap--the bill
itself was the sole evidence of soap's ever having made its appearance
in that house--and washing and tea and food and goodness knows what. The
total was amazing. I verified the addition, or, rather, corrected it,
and then offered half of the sum demanded. This offer was received with
protestations, tears and voluble demands to know if I 'ad the 'art to
rob a lone widow who couldn't protect herself. Finally we compromised on
a three-quarter basis and Mrs. Briggs receipted the bill. She said her
kind disposition would be the undoing of her and she knew it. She was
too silly and soft-'arted to let lodgings.

We had very little trouble in carrying or leading Little Frank to the
cab. The effect of the doctor's powders--they must have contained some
sort of opiate--was to render the girl only partially conscious of what
was going on and we got her to and into the vehicle without difficulty.
During the drive to Bancroft's she dozed on Hephzy's shoulder.

Her room--it was next to Hephzy's, with a connecting door--was ready
and we led her up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson were very kind and
sympathetic. They asked surprisingly few questions.

"Poor young lady," said Mr. Jameson, when he and I were together in our
sitting-room. "She is quite ill, isn't she."

"Yes," I admitted. "It is not a serious illness, however. She needs
quiet and care more than anything else."

"Yes, sir. We will do our best to see that she has both. A relative of
yours, sir, I think you said."

"A--a--my niece," I answered, on the spur of the moment. She was
Hephzy's niece, of course. As a matter of fact, she was scarcely related
to me. However, it seemed useless to explain.

"I didn't know you had English relatives, Mr. Knowles. I had been under
the impression that you and Miss Cahoon were strangers here."

So had I, but I did not explain that, either. Mrs. Jameson joined us.

"She will sleep now, I think," she said. "She is quite quiet and
peaceful. A near relative of yours, Mr. Knowles?"

"She is Mr. Knowles's niece," explained her husband.

"Oh, yes. A sweet girl she seems. And very pretty, isn't she."

I did not answer. Mr. Jameson and his wife turned to go.

"I presume you will wish to communicate with her people," said the
former. "Shall I send you telegram forms?"

"Not now," I stammered. Telegrams! Her people! She had no people. We
were her people. We had taken her in charge and were responsible. And
how and when w