most of those from whom we had expected help had either gone for the
day or were absent from some other cause. At last I weakened.

"Sister Kauffman, I can stand this awful strain no longer," I said.
"Perhaps God has sent in food to the girls during our absence. Let us
try to get back home." We could not telephone. That would mean a
nickel, and we didn't have it. "Once more, dear, once more we'll try,"
replied courageous Sister Kauffman. So we ascended a long flight of
stairs, only to find the door fast locked. Bless her noble soul! she
was just as tired, weak, and hungry as I, but infinitely less selfish.

As we came out on the sidewalk, she suddenly remembered one who had
some time previously promised help whenever she happened in that
vicinity again. It was but half a block distant. Thither we dragged our
weary bodies. When we reached the top of that stairway, a gentleman was
just in the act of locking a door. His greeting was:

"Well, well, Sister Kauffman, how do you do, and how are all your
family? You're just in time. I was about to go home. Glad to make your
acquaintance, Sister Roberts. Ladies, come in a moment and rest after
your hard climb." He handed a piece of money (five dollars) to Sister
Kauffman, remarking as he did so that he had been saving it for her
several days.

Then something happened--something totally unlooked for by any of us
three. Sister Kauffman and I burst into tears and wept unrestrainedly
for several minutes, whilst the kind friend retired, I suppose, to a
remote corner of the large room. Presently, when we had become somewhat
calm, we told him what we had endured since early morning. It was not
at all strange (now was it?) that this good-hearted man, during our