Year: 1874

deep trouble, and you need help.
overheard what passed between you
and the policeman, and closely observ.
ed your manner. | am stranger tc
you / know, but believe me, l will be
your friend. Now what can | do fol
you? Do you need food ?"


Her lustrious eyes looked into mine,
with the same questioning expression
that l had observed before, and then
a tear, a woman's tear, fell into the
little half open hand of her babe.


"Thank you, SIR she said, quietly
Il need nothing but my child, sir
| have eaten nothing since yesterday
morning, and then only piece Of
bread that little girl gave me. 1t
mightn't be so well for my child, sir. u


'IIave you home, my good wo.
man ? Or friends z asked.


"a home friends ? Oh, no sir
Baby and l have lived on the streets
ever since-ever since"


She did not finish her sentence, nor
did ask her to do So


Madam" said |, "you are i'll and
need the care Of friends, for your
own and your child's welfare. My
residence is up the river about twenty
five miles. There you can have the
attention that you need. My mother
and sisters will care for YOU. The
fresh air and change of scene will do
you good. Will you come with me
Shall l call a cab ?"


She looked into my face steadily,
and then said, meekly,-


"You are very kind to me and my
child. l will 60, sir


The river boat left in halt an hour
after, and we three were passengers.
| placed her chair in such position
that she could watch the ever-chang-
ing scenery, but she seemed unmind-
full of everything about her, only
speaking when I first addressed her.


TO my mother and sisters, on my
arrival at my home, gave the only
explanation that l could give. Such
an explanation was not necessary 10
ensure the kind care that I had prom.
ised. Food, better clothing, and
other comforts, such as only good
mothers and sisters can dispense, were
supplied in abundance.


During the succeeding two Or three
days saw but little of the poor crea-
ture, as my business called me to the
city daily. Rest and diversion
wrought their change, and, before a
week had passed, the pallor of her
cheek had given place to a flush that
gave light to her clouded face Once
when my sister had asked her if there
was anything that she would like, she
replied


"Just a little flower, pleas IA wee
little white one"


After that we kept flowers in her
room, and they seemed to delight her.
What gave us great cause for appre-
hension, was that her strength percept-
IDLY failed her. I believe now, that
the unnatural excitement, which was
induced by her street life, had buoyed
her up, and that not until that had
been withdrawn did she know how
very weak she was. We used to
bolster her up with pillows, in the
family carriage, and drive about the
country in the cool of the day, because
she was able to walk only very short
distance. The most indirect allusion
to her past life had not been made
that subject having been avoided by
tacit consent. She had told us that
her name was Emily, but more than
that, nothing.


Her child, in whom her whole be-
ing centered, throve under the change
in its mode of life. He was bright
eyed, frolicsome little fellow, and
speedily won the affection OF every
member of the family, including Bruno
my faithful old Newfoundland dog,
whose caresses were hardly less ex-
pressive than our own.


One evening, nearly six weeks after
Emily had become a member of our
family, for as such we had come to
regard her, we were all sitting on the
back porch, looking over the river
and green hills, and watching the
twittering sparrows as they skipped
here and there. Emily was in a large
easy chair, beside mother. Her snowy
muslin dress, and a pretty little crown
oftuberoses, with which my sister had
decked her hair, made her appear