state.  As I was a charitable gentleman, would I go and speak to her?  Well, rather reluctantly, I did.  I went upstairs to a dreary back room, and found a decidedly lady-like young woman, neatly dressed enough, but ghastly white with dull eyes.  She seemed to be dusting some books, but looked too weary to do much.  She was not surprised or moved in any way at seeing me.  When I apologized for intruding upon her, she murmured that I was very good.  Then I asked if I could help her in any way.  She thanked me, but suggested nothing.  When I pressed her to express her needs, she said that life was not worth working for, but that she supposed they would give her something to do in the workhouse, and she would do it.  As for seeking work, she could not, that she was a failure, and only cared not to trouble others.  I was quite baffled.  She was so quiet and gentle, and spoke with such refinement, that I was deeply interested.  I called again this morning, and she would hardly answer me.  As she is young (not a great deal older than yourself), perhaps a lady—­a woman—­might win her confidence.  She seems to have been a dressmaker.  Could you not offer her some employment, and draw her from the extraordinary lethargy which seems to dull her faculties?  No mind can hold out against it; she will die or become insane.”

“It is very strange.  I should be very glad to help her, but I feel afraid to attempt anything.  I shall be so awkward.  What can I say to begin with?”

“Your offering her work would make an opening.  Do try.  I am sure her case needs a woman’s delicate touch.”

“I will do my best,” said Katherine.  “It all sounds terribly interesting.  Shall I go to-morrow?”

“Yes, by all means.  I am so very much obliged to you.  I feel you will succeed.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

The next day, a drizzling damp morning, Katherine, feeling unusually nervous, was quite ready when Bertie called for her.  The drive to Camden Town seemed very long, but it came to an end at last, all the sooner because Bertie stopped the cab some little way way from the sweety shop.

“I have brought a young lady to see your invalid,” said Bertie, introducing Katherine to Mrs. Dodd, a short broad old lady, with a shawl neatly pinned over her shoulders, a snowy white cap with black ribbons, and a huge pair of spectacles, over which she seemed always trying to look.

“I’m sure it’s that kind of you, sir.  And I am glad you have come.  The poor thing has been offering me a nice black dress this morning to let her stay on.  It’s the last decent thing she has.  I expect she has been just living on her clothes.  I’ll go and tell her.  Maybe miss will come after me, so as not to give her time to say no?”

Katherine cast a troubled look at Bertie.  “Don’t wait for me,” she said; “your time is always so precious.  I dare say I can get a cab for myself.”  And she followed Mrs. Dodd up a steep narrow dark stair.