restful pillow to many a new-born
baby, seemed shrunken--not in weight, but in its spring, as if all her
alertness (she was under fifty) had oozed out. It was only when she had
completed her labors and taken a chair beside him, her soft, nursing
hand covering his own, that his mind reverted to the tragedy which
had brought him to her side. Even then, although she sat with her face
turned toward his, her eyes reading his own, some moments passed before
either of them spoke. At last, in a wondering, dazed way, she exclaimed:
"Have you, in all your life, Stephen, ever heard anything like it?"

Carlin shook his head. The letter had given him the facts, and no
additional details could alter the situation. It was as if a dead body
were lying in the next room awaiting interment; when the time came
he would step in and look at it, ask the hour of burial, and step out
again.

"I came as soon as I'd read your letter," he said slowly examining
one by one his rough fingers bunched together in his lap. "We got
chuck-a-block on Second Avenue or I'd have been here before. Why didn't
you let me know sooner?" As he spoke he shifted his gaze to the wrinkles
in her throat--a new anxiety rising as he noticed how many more had
gathered since he saw her last.

"She wouldn't have it, and I want to tell you that you've got to be
careful, as it is. And mind you don't speak too sudden to her."

In answer he craned his head as if to see around the jamb of the door
leading into the smaller room and, lowering his voice, whispered: "Is
she here now?"

"No, but she will be in a few minutes; she's often late, she waits until
it's dark."

"How long has she been here with you?"

"About two weeks."

"Two weeks! You didn't tell me that."

"She wouldn't let me. She is having trouble enough and I have to do
pretty much as she wants."

He ruminated for a moment, this time scrutinizing the palms of his
hands, seemingly interested in some callous spots near the thumb-joint,
and then asked: "How did she find you?"

"By God's mercy and nothing else. I was sitting in a Third Avenue car
and there she was opposite. I couldn't believe my eyes, she was that
changed! She would have been off the dock, I believe, if she hadn't
found me. She has run away from Dalton now, and is so scared of him she
trembles every time some one comes up the stairs. That's why I wrote you
not to ring. He has nothing left. He kept a-hounding her to write to her
father and ni