r three men came out of the lower room at the same
moment.

"Is that Zelda?" they shouted. "Send her here to sing for us."

But the stout woman opened a door and Sanselme laid his burden on the
bed. It was a sordid room in which he found himself. On the dirty walls
hung some colored prints of doubtful propriety. On one was a dark stain,
as if a glass of wine had been thrown upon it.

"Let me take off the quilt," said the woman, extending her hand to
remove the ragged covering on the bed.

Sanselme, filled with disgust at her cupidity, answered:

"Let everything alone. I will pay whatever is necessary."

"Very good, sir; if you answer for it, that's all right."

"And now I want a physician," he added.

"A physician! Oh, that is nonsense. You must not be taken in in this
way. She goes out every evening for her daughter, who is apprenticed to
a milliner, and this time she took a drop too much, that is all!"

A bitter sob was heard from the girl, who sat with her hands covering
her face.

Sanselme pitied the poor child. He took a twenty franc piece from his
pocket.

"I want a doctor," he said, "and pray make haste."

"Very good, sir, since I see you are willing to pay him, and that it
won't be left for me to do."

Sanselme was left alone with these two women. He was greatly annoyed
that accident had brought him to such a house, and was half tempted to
fly. He had done his duty and had defended the two women from their
assailants. What more had he to do here?

The merest trifle would compromise his position, for Lyons, though a
large city, is but a village; every trifle becomes known, and is
commented upon and exaggerated.

He stood twisting his hat in his hands. Presently, with an air of
decision, he tossed it on a chair.

"It won't do to be cowardly!" he said, half aloud.

This man, who had been so vicious, was now eager to do good. He must see
the physician. But could he do nothing while awaiting his arrival?
Whatever were the errors of this poor creature, she was a woman, and
suffering. He did not know what she required. He turned to the girl.

"Mademoiselle!" he said, making his voice as gentle and paternal as
possible.

She looked up, and for the first time he saw her. She was absolutely
adorable, with her glossy, dark hair carried back plainly from her fair
brow. How old was she? Sixteen, perhaps, but so slender that she looked
younger.

"You must unfasten your mother's dress," said Sanselme,