uiet, sir; we
keep as still as we can, and the other children are very still; but the
street is very noisy all the daytime and evening, sir, and--"

"I know it, Mrs. Miller. And I'm afraid those people down-stairs disturb
you somewhat."

"They make some stir in the evening, sir; and it's rather loud in the
street sometimes, at night. The folks on the lower floors are troubled a
good deal, they say."

Well they may be. Listen to the bawling outside, now, cold as it is.
Hark! A hoarse group on the opposite sidewalk beginning a song. "Ro-o-l
on, sil-ver mo-o-n"--. The silver moon ceases to roll in a sudden
explosion of yells and laughter, sending up broken fragments of curses,
ribald jeers, whoopings, and cat-calls, high into the night air.
"Ga-l-a-ng! Hi-hi! What ye-e-h _'bout_!"

"This is outrageous, Mrs. Miller. Where's the watchman?"

She smiled faintly. "He takes one of them off occasionally, sir; but
he's afraid; they beat him sometimes." A long pause.

"Isn't your room rather cold, Mrs. Miller?" He glanced at the black
stove, dimly seen in the outer room. "It is necessary to keep the rooms
cool just now, but this air seems to me cold."

Receiving no answer, he looked at her, and saw the sad truth in her
averted face.

"I beg your pardon," he said quickly, flushing to the roots of his hair.
"I might have known, after what you said to me this evening."

"We had a little fire here to-day, sir," she said, struggling with the
pride and shame of poverty; "but we have been out of firing for two or
three days, and we owe the wharfman something now. The two boys picked
up a few chips; but the poor children find it hard to get them, sir.
Times are very hard with us, sir; indeed they are. We'd have got along
better, if my husband's money had come, and your rent would have been
paid--"

"Never mind the rent!--don't speak of that!" he broke in, with his face
all aglow. "Mrs. Miller, I haven't done right by you--I know it. Be
frank with me. Are you in want of--have you--need of--food?"

No need of answer to that faintly stammered question. The thin, rigid
face was covered from his sight by the worn, wan hands, and all the
pride and shame of poverty, and all the frigid truth of cold, hunger,
anxiety, and sickened sorrow they had concealed, had given way at last
in a rush of tears. He could not speak. With a smitten heart, he knew it
all now. Ah! Dr. Renton, you know these people's tricks? you know their
lying blazon