"It is only once a year that we come," the girl pleaded, "and we only go
to people who we know can afford to help us, and who we believe can
appreciate our work. You know so much of the darker side of New York, Mr.
Quest. Wherever you go you must find signs of our labours. Even if I put
on one side, for a moment, the bare religious question, think how much we
do for the good and the welfare of the poor people."

Quest nodded.

"That's all right," he admitted. "You reach the outcasts all right.
There's many a one you save whom you had better leave to die, but here and
there, no doubt, you set one of them on their legs again who's had bad
luck. Very well, Miss Quigg. You shall have a donation. I am busy to-day,
but call at the same hour to-morrow and my secretary here shall have a
cheque ready for you."

The girl smiled her gratitude.

"You are very kind indeed, Mr. Quest," she said simply. "I will be here."

The Professor laid his hand upon her arm as she passed. He had been
watching her with curious intentness.

"Young lady," he observed, "you seem very much in earnest about your
work."

"It is only the people in earnest, sir," she answered, "who can do any
good in the world. My work is worth being in earnest about."