robably questioning what could
be her interest in the event. Dalton pushed through the press, keeping
her close in his wake. But once within the door no conventional barriers
were interposed. The gloomy distance and silence attendant upon the last
hours of the great were not in the way of friendly sympathy, or
unfriendly intrusion, here. The back door stood wide open, and people
came and went, while the children's sobs mingled with the curt,
outspoken directions of the undertaker and the clatter of dishes, which
some obliging neighbor was washing at the kitchen sink. The body of the
murdered man lay on the bed in a small room off the little
sitting-room--an apartment so tiny that the door had to be left open, so
that the implements of this last service to his body might overflow into
the larger room. Lucy, pale and swollen-eyed, was rocking the baby
before the little gas grate, with her back that way, the child with
wide, wakeful eyes gazing solemnly up into her suffering face, trying
vainly to puzzle out the situation. Babette, a pretty girl with a rose
and lily face, was soothing Rufie and Tilly near by, while Mrs.
Hemphill, with her own baby in her arms, kept a sharp lookout both on
this little group, and upon the two men in the small bedroom. It seemed
to Joyce that the place was aswarm with bustling humanity, and struck
her with a sharp pang that the little children should see and hear so
much of these gruesome details. Just as they entered Mrs. Hemphill's
high-pitched voice was making a remark--

"No, 'tain't easy to dispose of young'uns that's left orphans.
Children's like tooth-picks--most folks prefers their own," and Joyce
could imagine why Lucy's expression was so tense and drawn.

She stepped quickly to the young girl's side and, stooping, tenderly
kissed her cheek. Lucy looked up wonderingly an instant, then burst into
a fresh flood of tears, while Joyce held the weary little head against
her side, smoothing its pretty hair with soft fingers, but saying no
word. Presently the bereaved girl sobbed out, "It's so good of you to
come!" and she answered softly, "I was glad to, Lucy. I want you to let
me help in someway." She drew a chair forward and looked at the
unwinking baby, but did not offer to take it. She felt that the sister
drew quietness and comfort from the warmth and pressure of its little
body. But in gentle tones she began asking questions of Babette as to
the plans and needs for the next few days