the cold." Everybody had shown surprise to whom Elizabeth had spoken
to-night, but no one had stared as this woman did.

"It's no place for the loike o' yez," she said. "An' it black noight, an'
men and women wild in the drink; an' Pat Harrigan insoide bloind an' mad
in liquor, an' it's turned me an' the children out he has to shlape in
the snow--an' not the furst toime either. An' it's starvin' we
are--starvin' an' no other," and she dropped her wretched head on her
knees and began to moan again, and the children joined her.

[ILLUSTRATION: "WHY IS IT THAT YOU CRY?" SHE ASKED GENTLY.]

"Don't let yez daddy hear yez," she said to them. "Whisht now--it's come
out an' kill yez he will."

Elizabeth began to feel tremulous and faint.

"Is it that they have hunger?" she asked.

"Not a bite or sup have they had this day, nor yesterday," was the
answer, "The good Saints have pity on us."

"Yes," said Elizabeth, "the good Saints have always pity. I will go and
get some food--poor little ones."

She had seen a shop only a few yards away--she remembered passing it.
Before the woman could speak again she was gone.

"Yes," she said, "I was sent to them--it is the answer to my prayer--it
was not in vain that I asked so long."