needed was rest, utter rest. Sleep if possible most of the time for at
least a week, with, careful feeding every two or three hours, and after
that a quiet, cheerful place with plenty of fresh air and sunshine and
more sleep; no anxiety, and nothing to call on the exhausted energies
for action or hurry.

Now how was a state of things like that to be brought about for a person
who had no home, no friends, no money, and no time to lie idle?
Moreover, how could there be any cheerful spot in the wide world for a
little girl who had passed through the fire as she had done?

Presently he went out to the drug-store and telephoned to the hospital.
They said she had had only one more slight turn of unconsciousness, but
had rallied from it quickly and was resting quietly now. They hoped she
would have a good night.

Then he went back to his room and thought about her some more. He had an
important English examination the next day, one in which he especially
wanted to do well; yet try as he would to concentrate on Wells and Shaw,
that girl and what was going to become of her would get in between him
and his book.

It was after ten o'clock when he sauntered down the hall and stood in
Stephen Marshall's room for a few minutes, as he was getting the habit
of doing every night. The peace of it and the uplift that that room
always gave him were soothing to his soul. If he had known a little more
about the Christ to whose allegiance he had declared himself he might
have knelt and asked for guidance; but as yet he had not so much as
heard of a promise to the man who "abides," and "asks what he will."
Nevertheless, when he entered that room his mind took on the attitude of