enough of it. Why, one Christmas, we at the Settlement
House had a tree and gifts that cost hundreds of dollars. We had a big
dance. Evening dress and all the rest. Young men and women who, had they
been in their own homes, would have been under some one's watchful eye,
were having a jolly, good fling down there that Christmas Eve, I can
tell you.

"Right in the middle of the evening, a call came from a family in a
tenement around the corner. I knew all about them--or I thought I
did--so I went. I just flung a cloak about me and ran off alone. Somehow
I did not want any one with me."

Constance's eyes grew dim, and her under lip quivered.

"It was awful." Her voice sank low. "You see, with all the preparations
going on at the Settlement House, we had sort of forgotten this--this
family. They were not the noisy, begging kind, but there was a pitiful,
little sick girl whom I had taken a liking to and to _think_ that I
should have forgotten her--and at that time, too! There was no tree in
that home, Jock, there was nothing much, but the little dying girl and
her mother.

"They didn't even blame me--oh, if they only had!" The honest tears ran
down Constance's cheeks. "But they didn't. The mother said--and she
apologized for troubling me, think of that!--that the baby wanted me to
tell her a Christmas story. She just wouldn't go to sleep until I did,
and she had been ailing all day. I--I forgot my dress, and tore off my
cloak in that cold, empty room and I took that poor baby in my arms.
Then--then the hardest part came--she--she didn't know me. She got the
queerest little notion in her baby head--she--she thought I was
an--angel. Oh! oh! and I wanted her to know me."

Down went the girlish head in the open pages of the character sketches.

"Well of all gol-durned nonsense!" Jock blurted out. "The whole blamed
show oughter been exposed. I reckon the best job the company ever had to
its credit was that happening of yours--the dress and the--the--rest of
the picter. Lord!" Jock's feelings were running over as he looked upon
the bowed head. The story had got hold of his tender heart. "Lord above!
Just think of that sort of rum suffering going on back there. It's worse
than what happens here. We've got wood to keep the kids warm in winter,
and there's clean air and coolness in summer. I'm durned glad I cut it
when"--he stopped short. Constance was looking at him with wide,
questioning eyes.

"When I did," Jock added help