Helene Stanton
issued forth, clad in a handsome evening costume. To Von Barwig's
fevered mind, she looked more radiantly beautiful, more tranquilly
happy than he had ever before seen her. She walked rapidly down the
brown stone steps, stepped quickly into the carriage and was whirled
away before Von Barwig could realise what had happened. The old man
could have shrieked aloud in his agony.

"She knows, she knows, she knows!" he kept saying to himself, as he
groped his way toward home. He was dazed, benumbed. The many figures
coming and going, this way and that way, seemed like a spectral vision
to him. How he got as far as Union Square he never knew, but the first
place he recognised was the open square. A large piano organ was
playing and quite a number of people were grouped around it. This
music recalled him to himself.

"I know the worst now; the sword of hope no longer hangs over my head.
At least my suspense is over," he said, "thank God it is over!"

He now realised what had happened.

"No more waiting and watching for the word that never comes!" he
thought. "My dream is over! I am awake again, I will think no more of
it."

He was walking across the square now. The evening was warm and sultry
and all the benches were crowded with people except one on which a
woman was seated holding a babe that was crying.

"Either people do not want to disturb her, or they do not want to be
disturbed by the crying infant," thought Von Barwig, mechanically
taking in the situation. He was now acutely conscious of things going
on around him.

"What is the matter with that baby?" he wondered. He stooped and
looked at the infant. It was crying piteously, so he looked at the
woman and was struck by the fact that she was taking no notice of her
child. She seemed to be absolutely unconscious of the fact that it was
crying.

"How strange!" thought Von Barwig.

She was a young, girlish woman with rather attractive features, but
pale and wan. Von Barwig could not help noticing the look of abject
despair on her face. The child cried on, but she seemed oblivious of
the fact.

"Can she hear it?" he asked himself. "Is she the mother and yet allows
the babe to suffer without trying to help it?" Von Barwig's interest
was aroused and he determined to speak to her.

"I beg your pardon," he said gently to the girl. "Can I not do
something for you?"

She turned to him and shook her head.

"Can I do something fo