d, framing a
heavy-jawed, livid face, with dull black eyes fixed on Catharine.

"Who are you?" she said.

Kitty went straight up to her. The foul smell made her head reel. But
this was only a woman, after all; and one in great bodily need--dying,
she thought. Kitty was a born nurse. She involuntarily straightened
the wretched pillows and touched the hot forehead before she spoke: "I
came instead of Hugh Guinness. You had a message for him."

"I don't know. It doesn't matter for that," her eyes wandering. The
soft touch and the kind face bending over her were more to her just
now than all that had gone before in her life. "It is here the pain is,"
moving Kitty's hand to her side. The pain filled the dull eyes with tears.
"This is a poor place to die in," trying to smile.

"Oh, you are not going to die," cheerfully. "Let me lift you up higher
on the pillows. Put your arm about me--so. You're not too heavy for me
to lift."

The woman, when she was arranged, took Kitty's fingers and feebly
held them to her side. "It is so long since anybody took care of me. I
sha'n't live till to-morrow. Don't leave me--don't go away."

"I'll not go away," said Kitty.

* * * * *

The man whom the prison physician had waited to meet was Doctor
McCall. He had followed Kitty so far, unwilling to interfere by
speaking to her. But when he saw her enter Moyamensing he thought that
she needed a protector. "Ha, Pollard, is this you?" stopping to shake
hands. They were old acquaintances, and managed, in spite of their
profession, to see something of each other every year. McCall ran
up to town once or twice through the winter, and stayed at Pollard's
house, and Pollard managed to spend a week or two with him in peach
season.

"I thought I knew your swing, McCall, two squares off. Looking for
me?"

"No: I followed a lady, a friend of mine, who has just gone in at the
gate."

"You know her, eh?" eagerly. "A most attractive little girl, I
thought: She went in with the chaplain to see one of the prisoners."

McCall paused, his hand on the gate. A horrible doubt stopped his
heart-beating for an instant. But how utterly absurd it was! Only
because this black shadow pursued him always could such a fancy have
come to him. "The prisoner is a woman?" with forced carelessness.

"Yes. A poor wretch brought here last spring for shoplifting. Her
term's out next week. She has had a sharp attack of pneumonia, and
has