'It was very good of you. How has she obtained food?'
'The little boy sells papers and ballads about the streets. The newsman round the corner trusts him for 'em, and he's managed to make twenty-five cents or more most every day.'
'Can't you give her another room? She should not die where she is.'
'I know she shouldn't, sir, but I hain't got another—all of 'em is taken up; and besides, sir,' and she hesitated a moment, 'the noise up here would disturb her.'
I had not thought of that; and expressing myself gratified with her kindness, I passed down again to the basement. The sick girl smiled as I opened the door, and held out her hand again to me. Taking it in mine, I asked:
'Do you feel better?'
'Much better,' she said, in a voice stronger than before. 'I have not felt so well for a long time. I owe it to you, sir! I am very grateful.'
'Don't speak of it, madam. Won't you have more of the broth?'
'No more, thank you. I won't trouble you any more, sir—I shan't trouble any one long;' and her eyes filled, and her voice quivered; 'but, O sir! my child! my little boy! What will become of him when I'm gone?' and she burst into a hysterical fit of weeping.
'Don't weep so, madam. Calm yourself; such excitement will kill you. God will provide for your child. I will try to help him, madam.'