"Do you know where she lives, Maum Isbel?"
"No. 15 Market street, ma'am, de chile said; please remember."
"Get me another woman, Maum Isbel, to fill her place; the work cannot stop. I will go at once to see her. Poor creature! She has looked pale and delicate ever since she sought work at the Home."
Without delay, Mrs. Marshall hurried out on her mission of charity, and tarried not until she stood confronting a low, miserable looking tenement house on Market street. Her knock at the designated door was answered by an untidy, rough-looking woman, who came into the narrow dingy entry, and after eyeing the matron sharply, said coarsely:
"What do you want?"
"Does Mrs. Moses live here?"
"Yes; but she's very poorly to-day; ain't been up at all. Indeed she's been poorly for a week or more."
"Can I see her?"
"Yes, come in; she's in thar," pointing to a small room cut off from the end of the narrow hall-way.
Mrs. Marshall approached the small room, and answered the summons of a feeble voice that said, "Come in."