the poor lady in breathless
confusion, with a little nervous laugh, thinking to herself at the
same time that it certainly _was_ very queer.

"I'm not at all sure that I understand ye, ma'am," said the bewildered
woman, looking about her in an alarmed sort of way, as if she wondered
whether Miss Slopham was quite a safe woman to be alone with.

"Oh, how can I explain it?" that lady cried, desperately. "Well," she
said, drawing a long breath, "let's begin at the beginning. Of course
you understand that I don't want any such clothes for myself?"

"No, ma'am, I suppose not," murmured Mrs. Doherty, evidently
suspecting that the other was slightly insane.

"Well, I wanted to ask you about them, because I thought your husband
might have some clothes he did not want. I'd pay him a good price for
them, and they needn't be very good"--and again Miss Slopham struck
that terrible snag of the conversation--"I want them for a gentleman
who's got into trouble; I can't tell you what it is, but he's got to
keep out of the way of people. And the thing I wanted to ask you most,
Mrs. Doherty," she said, in a pleading voice, conscious that she was
twisting it all into a sad snarl, "was whether I couldn't get you and
Mr. Doherty to take him to board up here with you for a while," and
here the good lady sighed a sigh of relief in spite of her misery and
confusion. She had at last let the cat out of the bag.

Mrs. Doherty's eyes were growing very large. The man needed new
clothes; must have them that afternoon; there was a reason for his
keeping out of the way; Miss Slopham would not tell what it was; the
man had got into trouble. The idea grew bigger and bigger in Mrs.
Doherty's mind, until at last it burst out with,

"But is it a jail-bird ye've got there, ma'am?"

"No, no," cried Miss Slopham, badly frightened in her turn at the
other's fear. "How could you think such a thing? He's a gentleman, you
know; quite an important man where he comes from. There are reasons
why I can't tell you who he is. He doesn't want anybody to know it
either. But a jail-bird! why, wait till you see him, Mrs. Doherty. He
looks so gentle, and he's really handsome."

Mrs. Doherty looked at Miss Slopham. Miss Slopham was a wealthy
tenant, and paid a large rent, and Mrs. Doherty was only the janitor's
wife. But, after all, Mrs. Doherty was a woman, and Miss Slopham was a
woman also, and Mrs. Doherty looked at Miss Slopham in the way in
which only a woman