Kitty went straight up to her. The foul smell made her head reel. But
this was only a woman, after all; and one in great bodily need--dying,
she thought. Kitty was a born nurse. She involuntarily straightened
the wretched pillows and touched the hot forehead before she spoke: "I
came instead of Hugh Guinness. You had a message for him."

"I don't know. It doesn't matter for that," her eyes wandering. The
soft touch and the kind face bending over her were more to her just
now than all that had gone before in her life. "It is here the pain is,"
moving Kitty's hand to her side. The pain filled the dull eyes with tears.
"This is a poor place to die in," trying to smile.

"Oh, you are not going to die," cheerfully. "Let me lift you up higher
on the pillows. Put your arm about me--so. You're not too heavy for me
to lift."

The woman, when she was arranged, took Kitty's fingers and feebly
held them to her side. "It is so long since anybody took care of me. I
sha'n't live till to-morrow. Don't leave me--don't go away."

"I'll not go away," said Kitty.

* * * * *

The man whom the prison physician had waited to meet was Doctor
McCall. He had followed Kitty so far, unwilling to interfere by
speaking to her. But when he saw her enter Moyamensing he thought that
she needed a protector. "Ha, Pollard, is this you?" stopping to shake
hands. They were old acquaintances, and managed, in spite of their