the effect of constant weeping.  And I saw many eyes, but not hers; not the ones I had seen smiling upon me as I lay in my crib before the days I was lifted to the dignity of the little brass bed.  So I gave that up too and listened to the inner voice which said, “You must wait for her to recognize you.  You can never hope to recognize her.”  And it was by following this plan that I found her.  I had arranged to have my name spoken aloud at every counter where I bargained; and oh, the bargains I sought, and the garments I had tried on!  But I made little progress until one day, after my name had been uttered a little louder than usual I saw a woman turn from rearranging gowns on a hanger, and give me one look.

I uttered a low cry and sprang impetuously, forward.  Instantly she turned her back and went on hanging, or trying to hang up, gowns on the rack before her.  Had I been mistaken?  She was not the sister of my dreams, but there was something fine in her outline; something distinguished in the way she carried her head which—­

Next minute my last doubt fled!  She had fallen her length on the floor and lay with her face buried in her hands in a dead faint.

Oh, Roger, Roger, Roger!  I had that dear head on my breast in a moment.  I talked to her, I whispered prayers in her unconscious ear.  I did everything I should not have done till they all thought me demented.  When she came to, as she did under other ministrations than mine, I was for carrying her off in my limousine.  But she shook her head with a gesture of such disapproval, that I realized I could not do that.  The limousine was my father’s, and nothing of his was ever to be used for her again.  I would call a cab; but she told me that she had not the money to pay for it and she would not take mine.  Carfare she had; five cents would take her home.  I need not worry.

She smiled as she said this and for an instant I saw my dream-sister again in this weary half-disheartened woman.  But the smile was a fleeting one, for this was to be her last day in the store; she had no talent as a saleswoman and was merely working out her week.

I felt my heart sink heavily at this, for the evidences of poverty were plainly to be seen in her clothes and the thinness of her face and figure.  How could I help?  What could I do?  I took her to a restaurant for food and talk, and before she would order, she looked into her purse, with the result that we had only a little toast and tea.  It was all she could afford and I, with a hundred dollars in bills at that moment in my bag, could not offer her anything more though she was needing nourishment and dishes piled with savoury meats were going by us every moment.