ers should be righted, and his
surroundings made comfortable at once, they left him with a new look on
his worn face.

After leaving the interpreter, well satisfied with his morning's work,
they were standing at a corner waiting for a trolley, when Joyce said in
a weary voice,

"Is that all we have to do together?"

Dalton glanced down at her, and his lips twitched a little at the
corners.

"For the present, I fear. Luncheon comes next, doesn't it? I had
hoped--but I heard you accept Mr. Barrington's invitation to his house."

"Yes," absently. "Then I won't see you again?"

"What train did you think of taking for home?"

"I want to take the 5.13, if I can make it, but may have to wait for the
6.05. Which do you take?"

"I'll be there for the 5.13."

"All right!" cheerfully. "I'll try and be there. It's so much pleasanter
to have company. Is this my car?"

He helped her on, and stepped back to await his own, going to another
part of the city.

"Poor little thing!" he thought. "How the contact with crime sickens
her. I can always see it. Yet she will not swerve from her good work,
though she might sit lapped in luxury. They say those soldiers who
sicken and tremble when going into the fight often make the bravest
heroes. She is the pluckiest little fighter I ever saw, but it is
herself she conquers--and me!"

CHAPTER XXIII.

WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.

It was a hard day for Joyce. Luncheon was late at Mr. Barrington's, and
the purchases she must make took her far and near. It seemed impossible
to get through for the 5.13 train; but she was somewhat astonished to
find herself rushing from counter to counter, and eagerly consulting her
little watch for fear she should miss it.

"But what if I do?" she asked herself. "I told them not to hurry dinner,
and I can be at home soon after seven by the next train. What's the use
in making myself ill by scrambling about like this?"

Yet, despite all arguing, as the moments fled her eagerness increased,
and though she would not say, even to her own soul, "It is because
George Dalton is taking that train," still something did say it within
her, in utter disregard of her own proud disclaiming of any such motive.
She even neglected one or two quite important purchases of her own, so
that she might board a car for the distant depot with a minute or two of
leeway, as she calculated.

But we have all heard about those plans that "go agley."

To her impatience th