ng to buy luxuries for my lame little one."

Rising, he held out his hand.

"You have been a true Samaritan, Dr. Norman. I sincerely thank you."

The doctor took the outstretched hand.

"May I help you further?" he asked.

"I don't see well how you can, but I will take the will for the deed."

"But you do not forbid me to try?"

Philip shook his head despondingly. "You may try, certainly. Matters
cannot be worse than they are; only you will waste valuable time."

"Let me be judge of that. May I come to see you?"

Philip hesitated; then, when urged, gave his address, but in a manner
indicating that he never expected it to be used.

Dr. Norman, however, was a man of his word. A few days after that chance
meeting found him toiling up the steep stairs of block C in Dalmatian
Buildings, Marylebone, having ascertained below that the Waldrons' rooms
were on the top floor.

"There had need be good air when one gets to the surface here," groaned
the doctor, when he reached the top, and paused to recover breath before
knocking.

Sounds came from within--a light, childish laugh, a patter of talk. In
response to his knock, a step accompanied by the tap-tap of a crutch
came across the wooden floor. After some hesitation the door was opened
by a pale, brown-eyed child of about seven. A holland pinafore reached
to her feet, the right side hitched up by the crutch under that arm, on
which she leant heavily. Dark, wavy hair fell over her shoulders,
framing a pale, oval face, out of which shone a pair of bright,
wide-open eyes.

She remained in the doorway looking up at the doctor.

[Illustration: "I SUPPOSE YOU'VE COME ABOUT THE GAS BILL."]

"I suppose you've come about the gas bill," she said at length, with an
old-womanish air, "but it's no use. Father is out, and I have only
sixpence. It's my own, but you can have it if you promise to take care
of it."

"I'm a doctor, and a friend of your father's," replied Norman, with a
reassuring smile.

The child at once moved aside.

[Sidenote: A Real Live Visitor]

"Please come in. I've just been playing with my dolls for visitors, but
it will be much nicer to have a real live one."

The room the doctor entered was small, but cheerful; the floor
uncarpeted, but clean, and the window framed a patch of sky over the
chimney-pots below. A table stood near the window, by it two chairs on
which lay two dolls.

"Come to the window," requested the child, tap-tapping over the