own to Myrtle Street all morning,
and some of those crowded rooms are so stifling that I don't see how the
inmates breathe."

"You ought to keep away from them," advised Sandford with a critical
glance at her. "They're making you pale and thin. They're getting on
your nerves."

"I know it," admitted Mary, "but the more they get on my nerves, the
more I feel obliged to go."

She took her place at the table languidly, and merely tasted the iced
bouillon which the waitress put before her. She felt faint and needed
food, but it was hard to force herself to swallow while the smell of
the unwholesome places she had visited seemed still in her nostrils. The
remembrance of some of them rose sickeningly before her and she pushed
her plate aside.

"You take my advice and stay away from those places," said Sandford
again, noticing the movement. "What's the use of wearing your sympathies
to a frazzle over what can't be helped? They're sapping the life out of
you, and you're doing them no good--that is, no lasting good. It only
affords temporary relief."

"You know nothing about what I am doing," retorted Mary, irritated by
his comments and provoked at herself for feeling irritation over what
she knew was prompted by friendly interest. Yet when she went to her
room after having barely tasted her dinner, she stood a moment in front
of the mirror, recalling his remarks. She had to admit that the first
was true. There were blue shadows under her eyes. All the fresh color
and the sparkle was gone from her face. She looked as she felt, worn and
exhausted.

"But I _am_ doing them some good," she protested to herself, and in
proof of it took from a drawer the little memorandum book in which she
set down her daily expenses. She went back over the accounts of the
month just past. Nothing for herself except board and carfare, but the
other entries filled several pages: "Ice, fresh eggs, cream, beef juice,
ice, alcohol, towels, ice--"

Each time the word ice met her eye she recalled the parched lips that
had moaned for it, the feverish hands that had clutched it so greedily
when she brought it, and she thought if Sandford Berry could only see
what she had done for some of the poor souls who "got on her nerves"
he'd change his opinion about her efforts to help them being of no
avail. But the next moment a mood of depression seized her, weighing
down on her so heavily that hot tears started to her eyes.

"He's right! It isn't of any l