on, the baby, and little Phil the third. It seemed to Effie as if
they had always lived in this uninteresting house, looking out on that
narrow dismal street. They knew nobody. Their lives were very dull. Mrs.
Staunton occupied herself over George, morning, noon, and night. She
mended his clothes with scrupulous care; she washed his shirts herself,
and took immense pride in bringing the fronts up to a wonderful polish.
There was not a young man in the City who went to his daily work with
such snowy collars as George, such neat cuffs, such a look of general
finish. This work delighted Mrs. Staunton--it brought smiles to her eyes
and a look of satisfaction to her face.

Effie had got the money from Mr. Harvey, and had handed it without a
word to George.

He took it; his face flushed all over--tears filled his eyes.

He said, "God bless you, Effie; you are the bravest, best sister a man
ever had"; and then he went out of the room and out of the house.

"He never asked me where I got it," thought poor Effie; "and now there's
the interest to pay, and how can it possibly be taken out of our hundred
a year? Mother must never, never know; but how is that interest to be
paid?"

The Stauntons had been settled about a fortnight in their new home, when
Dorothy came to pay them a visit.

She was very busy in her hospital life. She came in with her accustomed
eager, purposeful walk. She sat down on the nearest chair, and began to
talk cheerfully to the children and sympathetically to Mrs. Staunton.

As soon as she had an opportunity, however, she drew Effie aside.

"Now, my dear," she said, looking straight into Effie's brown eyes,
"when are you coming to us?"

"Oh, if I could come," exclaimed Effie, "I should indeed be happy, but I
don't see any chance of it."

"I do. You are not really wanted here; Agnes is growing a big girl. Your
mother is devoted to your brother George; provided he comes home every
evening, she scarcely gives a thought to anyone else. You can be spared,
Effie, and it will be good for you. You do not look a bit the same girl.
You have lost your 'go' somehow. You are very young. It is wrong to have
a look like that when one is only twenty. You ought to come to the
hospital, and there is a vacancy now for a probationer, if you can take
it."

"If I dare to," said Effie, "but it does not seem right."

"Yes, I believe it is right. I know the matron of St. Joseph's Hospital
so well that I think I can arra