Frog!" she exclaimed, in amazement, stopping suddenly before them.

"If you know her, ma'am, perhaps you may direct me to her home."

"I know her well," said the female, who was none other than the
Bible-nurse who visited the sick of that district; "if you have not
arrested her for--for--"

"Oh no, madam," interrupted Giles, "I have not arrested her at all, but
she seems to be unwell, and I was merely assisting her."

"Oh! then give her over to me, please. I know where she lives, and will
take care of her."

Giles politely handed his charge over, and went on his way, sincerely
hoping that the next to demand his care would be a man.

The Bible-woman drew the arm of poor Mrs Frog through her own, and in a
few minutes stood beside her in the desolate home.

"Nobody cares," muttered the wretched woman as she sank in apathy on her
stool and leaned her head against the wall.

"You are wrong, dear Mrs Frog. _I_ care, for one, else I should not be
here. Many other Christian people would care, too, if they knew of your
sufferings; but, above all, God cares. Have you carried your troubles
to Him?"

"Why should I? He has long ago forsaken me."

"Is it not, dear friend, that you have forsaken Him? Jesus says, as
plain as words can put it, `Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' You tell me it is of no use to
go to Him, and you don't go, and then you complain that He has forsaken
you! Where is my friend Hetty?"

"In hospital."

"Indeed! I have been here several times lately to inquire, but have
always found your door locked. Your husband--"

"He's in prison, and Bobby's gone to the bad," said Mrs Frog, still in
a tone of sulky defiance.

"I see no sign of food," said the Bible-nurse, glancing quickly round;
"are you hungry?"

"Hungry!" exclaimed the woman fiercely, "I've tasted nothin' at all
since yesterday."

"Poor thing!" said the Bible-nurse in a low tone; "come--come with me.
I don't say more. You cannot speak while you are famishing. Stay,
first one word--" She paused and looked up. She did not kneel; she did
not clasp her hands or shut her eyes, but, with one hand on the
door-latch, and the other grasping the poor woman's wrist, she prayed--

"God bless and comfort poor Mrs Frog, for Jesus' sake."

Then she hurried, without uttering a word, to the Institution in George
Yard. The door happened to be open, and the figure of a man with white
hair and