"If you are, as you say, a wanderer and a stranger in this town, can I
be of service to you?"

"You are very kind!" said the other, turning a pair of deep, dark, grey
meditative eyes upon him,--"And I am infinitely obliged to you for the
suggestion. But I really want nothing. As a matter of fact, I am
waiting for two friends of mine who have just gone into one of the foul
and filthy habitations here, to see what they can do for a suddenly
bereaved family. The husband and father fell dead in the street before
our eyes,--and those who picked him up said he was drunk, but it turned
out that he was merely starved,--_merely_!--you understand? Merely
starved! We found his home,--and the poor widow is wailing and weeping,
and the children are crying for food. I confess myself quite unable to
bear the sight, and so I have sent all the money I had about me to help
them for to-night at least. By my faith, they are most hopelessly,
incurably miserable!"

"Their lot is exceedingly common in these quarters," said Thord,
sorrowfully. "Day after day, night after night, men, women and children
toil, suffer and die here without ever knowing what it is to have one
hour of free fresh air, one day of rest and joy! Yet this is a great
city,--and we live in a civilized country!" He smiled bitterly, then
added--"You have done a good action; and you need no thanks, or I would
thank you; for my life's work lies among these wretched poor, and I am
familiar with their tragic histories. Good-night!"

"Pray do not go!" said the stranger suddenly--"I should like to talk to
you a little longer, if you have no objection. Is there not some place
near, where we can go out of this rain and have a glass of wine