money; his moaning victim; the
discordant piano; the man with the vacant laugh; the lost hope and
youth in the woman's that echoed it; the stealing, slipping feet of
those who must tread softly--all conveyed to Lane that he had awakened
in another world, a world which shunned sunlight.

Toward morning he dozed off into a fitful sleep which lasted until ten
o'clock when he arose and dressed. As he was about to go out a knock
on the door of the room next to his recalled the incident of the
night. He listened. Another knock followed, somewhat louder, but no
response came from within.

"Say, you in there," cried a voice Lane recognized as the landlady's.
She rattled the door-knob.

A girl's voice answered weakly: "Come in."

Lane heard the door open.

"I wants my room rent. I can't get a dollar out of your drunken
father. Will you pay? It's four weeks overdue."

"I have no money."

"Then get out an' leave me the room." The landlady spoke angrily.

"I'm ill. I can't get up." The answer was faint.

Lane opened his door quickly, and confronted the broad person of the
landlady.

"How much does the woman owe?" he asked, quietly.

"Ah-huh!" the exclamation was trenchant with meaning. "Twenty dollars,
if it's anything to you."

"I'll pay it. I think I heard the woman say she was ill."

"She says she is."

"May I be of any assistance?"

"Ask her."

Lane glanced into the little room, a counterpart of his. But it was so
dark he could see nothing distinctly.

"May I come in? Let me raise the blind. There, the sun is fine this
morning. Now, may I not---"

He looked down at a curly head and a sweet pretty face that he knew.

"I know you," he said, groping among past associations.

"I am Rose Clymer," she whispered, and a momentary color came into her
wan cheeks.

"Rose Clymer! Bessy Bell's friend!"

"Yes, Mr. Lane. I'm not so surprised as you. I recognized you last
night."

"Then it was you who passed me in the hall?"

"Yes."

"Well! And you're ill? What is the matter? Ah! Last night--it was
your--your father--I heard?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've not been well since--for a long time, and I
gave out last night."

"Here I am talking when I might be of some use," said Lane, and he
hurried out of the room. The landlady had discreetly retired to the
other end of the hall. He thrust some money into her hands.

"She seems pretty sick. Do all you can for her, be kind to her. I'll
pay. I'm going for a do