tching from an upper window in the room of a friend
and fellow-worker, had seen him board a car and disappear with it far
down the street, did she resume her homeward walk; and now her eyes were
wet with indignant tears.

That Mr. Elmendorf should have asserted that it was through his
influence, "partially, at least," Miss Wallen had received her
appointment in the library was characteristic of Mr. Elmendorf. Coming
to the city himself a stranger, only the year previous, he had spent
some hours there each day in reading and writing and study, and had
early made acquaintance with Mr. Wells, the librarian, greatly
impressing that gentleman at first with the fluency of his chat and the
extent of his travel, information, and culture. John Allison,
millionaire and manager, was one of the trustees of the Lambert bequest,
and when Cary came home from boarding-school in April--a premature
appearance which the superintendent's letter fully explained--Allison
didn't know what to do with him. "I wish I knew the right sort of tutor
to take him in hand," said he to Wells, and Elmendorf, apparently deep
in a volume across the office, heard, and promptly acted upon the
hearing. He asked Wells for a letter of introduction and
recommendation. Wells, having known the applicant less than a fortnight,
was pleased with him and said what he could. Allison was impressed by
the applicant's fluency and apparent frankness, and in less than a week
the erudite Elmendorf found himself in halcyon waters. Then came the
foreign trip, another thing to rejoice in; but before he sailed
Elmendorf had had an opportunity of doing good to his kind, as he
conceived it. Seeking an inexpensive lodging on his arrival in Chicago,
he had found a neat, cheerful home under the roof of an elderly widow, a
Mrs. Wallen, in a little house on the north side. She lived alone with
her daughter, who, it presently transpired, was her main support. There
was a son, a stalwart fellow, too, who, being only twenty-four and a man
of some education and ability, should have been the mother's prop and
stay in her declining years, and so he would have been, very possibly,
but for the fact that he had provided himself with encumbrances of his
own in the shape of a wife, two children, and numerous debts. He was
provident in no other way. "Martin," as the mother fondly said, "would
have made a mark in the world if he'd only been started right," but as
Mart started himself he started wro