On Saturday morning he handed Helen a check for five hundred dollars, as her share of the proceeds.
Helen’s eyes sparkled with joy, as she thought of the happiness which this sum would bring to the poor ballet girl.
She lost no time in seeking her out.
It was indeed a poor place, Helen would have been afraid of venturing into such a locality if she had not been accompanied by Herbert Coleman.
Up a rickety staircase she climbed, and was shown, by an untidy woman, into a room wholly destitute of comforts, where on a pallet reclined Alice and her sister, both sick.
“Is that you, Miss Ford?” asked Alice, her face lighting up. “How very kind you are to come and see me!”
“I am very sorry to find you so sick,” said Helen.
“I don’t think I am very sick,” said Alice. “But this is but a poor place, and I cannot get any one to take care of my sister Jennie. She has been an invalid for years.”
“There are better times in store,” said Helen, cheerfully, “First we must have you moved to a better room. Next you must have a nurse.”
“But,” said Alice, hesitatingly, “we are very poor. I never had anything but my salary to depend upon, and now that is cut off.”