gth
confronted by a pair of shabby doors that looked familiar, and pushing
one of them open, baited at the bottom of a stairway to listen.
The sound of cheerful voices camp to her from above; she started to
climb--even with the help of the rail it seemed as if she would never
reach the top of that stairway. But at last she stood in a loft where
long tables were set, and at the end of one of these, sorting out spoons
and dishes, three women and a man were chatting and laughing together.
Janet was troubled because she could not remember who the man was,
although she recognized his bold profile, his voice and gestures....
At length one of the women said something in a low tone, and he looked
around quickly and crossed the room.

"Why, it's you!" he said, and suddenly she recalled his name.

"Mr. Insall!"

But his swift glance had noticed the expression in her eyes, the sagged
condition of her clothes, the attitude that proclaimed exhaustion. He
took her by the arm and led her to the little storeroom, turning on the
light and placing her in a chair. Darkness descended on her....

Mrs. Maturin, returning from an errand, paused for an instant in the
doorway, and ran forward and bent over Janet.

"Oh, Brooks, what is it--what's happened to her?"

"I don't know," he replied, "I didn't have a chance to ask her. I'm
going for a doctor."

"Leave her to me, and call Miss Hay." Mrs. Maturin was instantly
competent .... And when Insall came back from the drug store where
he had telephoned she met him at the head of the stairs. "We've done
everything we can, Edith Hay has given her brandy, and gone off for dry
clothes, and we've taken all the children's things out of the drawers
and laid her on the floor, but she hasn't come to. Poor child,--what can
have happened to her? Is the doctor coming?"

"Right away," said Insall, and Mrs. Maturin went back into the
storeroom. Miss Hay brought the dry clothes before the physician
arrived.

"It's probably pneumonia," he explained to Insall a little later. "She
must go to the hospital--but the trouble is all our hospitals are pretty
full, owing to the sickness caused by the strike." He hesitated. "Of
course, if she has friends, she could have better care in a private
institution just now."

"Oh, she has friends," said Mrs. Maturin. "Couldn't we take her to our
little hospital at Silliston, doctor? It's only four miles--that isn't
much in an automobile, and the roads are good now."