was compelled to give herself wholly up to them.
Something, she knew not what, drew her irresistibly towards the dying
girl, and she started up Broadway to find the flowers she had promised
to carry to her. In a shop window she saw what she wanted. The flowers
were of the rarest and most costly kinds; but nothing was too good for
Jenny, and she paid four dollars for a bouquet. In another store she
purchased some jelly and other delicacies such as she had seen the
ladies at Woodville send to sick people. Thus prepared to meet the
dying girl, she took a horse car, and by six o'clock reached the humble
abode of Mrs. Kent.

"How is Jenny?" asked she, as she entered the house, without the
ceremony of knocking.

"She don't seem so well this afternoon," replied Mrs. Kent.

"Does she have a doctor?"

"Not now; we had one a while ago, but he said he could do nothing for
her."

"Don't you think we had better have one?"

"He might do something to make her easy, but Jenny don't complain. She
never speaks of her pains."

"I have come to stay all night with Jenny, if you are willing I
should," continued Fanny, doubtfully.

"You are very kind."

"I will only sit by her; I won't talk to her."

"I should be very glad to have you stay; and Jenny thinks ever so much
of you."

"If you please, I will go after a doctor."

Mrs. Kent consented, and Fanny, after sending in her bouquet, went for
a physician whose name she had seen on a fine house near Central Park,
judging from the style in which he lived that he must be a great man.
She found him at home, and he consented to return with her to Mrs.
Kent's house. He examined Jenny very carefully, and prescribed some
medicine which might make her more comfortable. He did not pretend that
he could do anything more for her, and he told Fanny that the sufferer
could not live many days, and might pass away in a few hours. Fanny
offered him his fee; he blushed, and peremptorily refused it.
Physicians who live in fine houses are often kinder to the poor than
the charlatans who prey upon the lowest strata of society.

Fanny procured the medicine which the kind-hearted doctor had
prescribed, and administered it with her own hands. Jenny gave her such
a sweet smile of grateful encouragement, that she was sorry there was
nothing else to be done for her.

"Now sit down, Fanny, and let me take your hand. I feel better to-night
than I have felt for a long time."

"I am glad you do," repl