Mrs. Jocelyn was soon deep in sympathy for the poor woman and her
daughter, and offered to go herself and look after them, but Mildred
and Mrs. Wheaton took the matter into their own hands, and Belle,
after gulping down a hasty supper, was eager to return as guide.
Mr. Jocelyn, who had returned from the closed store on a run, had
so far recovered from his panic concerning his child that he said
he would bring a physician from the dispensary, and, taking the
number, went to do his part for those who had become "neighbors
unto them." A woman on the same floor offered to look after Mrs.
Wheaton's children for an hour or two, and the two sisters and the
stout English woman, carrying everything they could think of to
make the poor creatures comfortable, and much that they could ill
spare, started on their errand of mercy. It never occurred to them
that they were engaged in a charity or doing a good deed. They
were simply following the impulses of their hearts to help those
of whose sore need they had just learned. Mildred panted a little
under her load before she reached the top of those long, dark stairs.
"I could never get to heaven this way," muttered Belle, upon whom
the day of fatigue and excitement was beginning to tell. "It's up,
up, up, till you feel like pitching the man who built these steps
head first down 'em all. It's Belle, Clara," she said, after a brief
knock at the door; then entering, she added, "I told you I'd come
back soon with help for you."

"I'm sorry I've nothing to make a light with," Clara answered; "the
moon has been so bright of late that we did without light, and then
I got all out of money. We either had to pay the rent or go into
the street, unless some one took us in. Besides, mother was too
sick to be moved."