the Young Women's Christian Association: a room upstairs in a building on one of the principal streets. Here two women faced me as I made my appeal, and I saw at once displayed the sentiments of kindness thenceforth to greet me throughout my first experience—qualities of exquisite sympathy, rare hospitality and human interest.
"I am looking for work. I want to get a room in a safe place for the night."
I had not for a moment supposed that anything in my attire of simple decorous work-clothes could awaken pity. Yet pity it was and nothing less in the older woman's face.
"Work in the shops?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The simple fact that I was undoubtedly to make my own living and my own way in the hard hand-to-hand struggle in the shops aroused her sympathy.
She said earnestly: "You must not go anywhere to sleep that you don't know about, child."
She wrote an address for me on a slip of paper.
"Go there; I know the woman. If she can't take you, why, come back here. I'll take you to my own house. I won't have you sleep in a strange town just anywheres! You might get into trouble."
She was not a matron; she was not even one of the staff of managers or directors. She was only a woman who had come in to ask some question, receive some information; and thus in marvelous