nearest chemist's shop, and asked the youth there where he should
find a doctor. The youth glanced towards the back room, and said Dr.
Sweeney was at hand. Dr. Sweeney was summoned, and appeared: a
hard-headed-looking youngish man, whom Douglas immediately bore away
with him.

The young Irish doctor did not seem much concerned when he saw his
patient. He seemed to be familiar with such cases. He said the girl
must be put to bed at once. She was merely suffering from a feverish
attack, on a system weakened by exhaustion and fatigue. Then he began
to question the landlady.

The usual story. Girl in a draper's shop; mother and sisters in the
country; sends them most of her earnings; probably does not take enough
food; long hours; constant standing; drinking tea to stave off hunger;
and so forth. Douglas listened in silence.

'And when she recovers from this attack, slight or severe,' he said at
length, 'what would restore that young lass to a proper state of
health?--can ye say that, doctor?'

'I can say it easily,' said the young Irishman, with a sarcastic smile.
'I can prescribe the remedies; and there are plenty of such cases;
unfortunately the patients are not in a position to follow my
prescriptions. I should prescribe good food, and fewer hours of work,
and an occasional week in the country air. It is easy to talk of such
things.'

'Ay, that is so,' said Douglas, absently.

He went home. He took from his pocket the biscuit, wrapped in a bit of
newspaper, that he had meant for his supper; but he put it on the top
of a little chest of drawers, thinking it would do for his breakfast in
the morning, and he would save so much. Then he went to the little
stock of money in his locked-up bag, and found there eight shillings
and sixpence. He took seven shillings of it, and went out again into
the cold night, and walked along to the house where the sick girl was.

'Mistress,' he said to the landlady, in his slow, staid way, 'I have
brought ye a little money that ye may buy any small things the lass may
want; it is all I can spare the now; I will call in the morning and see
how she is.'

'You needn't do that,' said the tall woman. 'Poor Mary Anne--she'll be
at the shop.'

'She shall not be at the shop!' he said, with a frown. 'Are ye a mad
woman? The girl is ill.'

'She'll have to be at the shop, or lose her place,' said the landlady,
with composure. 'There's too many young girls after situations