"I had never realized it, Mr. Flood; but all the while I was having everything, my precious Eleanor was poor, very poor. She had no relatives near enough to count, and her guardian sent her to school with what little money she had. I'm afraid it did not teach her very well how to support herself! She married the year she left school; she has never spoken of him at all, but I don't believe her husband was—was all she had believed. When he died, she brought little Bob to New York.
"I heard dear old Mrs. Harley say, only a day or two ago, that there are thousands of Southern girls, dear, sweet girls who have never done any work at all, who come to New York every year to try to earn a living. Sometimes they think they can sing, sometimes they want to become artists, sometimes they just come; and Eleanor was one of them. Only, with her, it was worse, for she had Bob.
"I don't know how they got along. I was in Europe, and she would only write when I had sent Bob something. I never dreamed that people, people of my own sort, my own friends even, might be hungry, and not have money enough to buy anything to eat."
"You ought not to know it now," Flood said. But she only shook her head.
"I believe Eleanor has been hungry. And if you could only see her—she is so lovely, as lovely as a white lily!"
"Oh, but surely, Miss Randall, she could have got help! There are no end of places——"
"Yes. But a woman like Eleanor can't seek just any kind of help, you know, and—well, as darling Mrs. Harley says, charity doesn't help much, when it is only charity. Even from me, Eleanor says she cannot.
"When I came to New York to live with Cecilia, I went at once to see her. She let me do all I could for little Bob, but it was too late. He died. And now she will not let me do anything for her. I ask her what good my money is to me, if she will not let me use it as I want to! She would not even let me take her to an oculist until she saw that I was just breaking my heart over her! And now——"
Again her head was bent over her clasped hands; again she was too moved, for the moment, to speak. Flood seized his opportunity.
"Believe me, it can be arranged," he said. "You have taken me into your confidence—you will let me—advise, won't you?" She looked up eagerly, and he went quickly on. "See your friend, Mrs.——"