When Mildred returned she found her mother nervously prostrated.  “I’ve had a bad turn,” was her only explanation.  Her broken spirit was terrified by her awful neighbors, and not for the world would she add another feather’s weight to the burdens under which her family faltered by involving them in a prosecution of the vile impostor who had sickened her with the exposure of a horrible trade. [Footnote:  This character is not an imaginary one, and, on ample authority, I was told of an instance where the large sum of fifty dollars was obtained from some kindly family by this detestable method of imposition.]

“Mamma,” cried Mildred, in sharp distress, “we must leave this place.  It’s killing you.”

“I wish we could leave it, dear,” sighed the poor woman.  “I think I’d be better anywhere else.”

“We shall leave it,” said the girl resolutely.  “Let the rent go.  I had already about decided upon it, and now I’ll go with Mrs. Wheaton to-morrow and find rooms among more respectable people.”

The events of the evening confirmed her purpose, for the young roughs that rendezvoused nightly at the entrance of the long passageway determined that they would no longer submit to the “uppish airs” of the sisters, but “tache ’em” that since they lived in the same house they were no better than their neighbors.  Therefore, as Belle boldly brushed by them as usual on her return from the shop, one young fellow, with a wink to his comrades, followed her, and where the passage was darkest put his arm around her waist and pressed upon her cheek a resounding kiss.  In response there came from the entrance a roar of jeering laughter.  But the young ruffian found instantly to his sorrow that he had aroused a tigress.  Belle was strong and furious from the insult, and her plump hand came down on the fellow’s nose with a force that caused the blood to flow copiously.  After the quick impulse of anger and self-defence passed she ran sobbing like a child to Mildred, and declared she would not stay another day in the vile den.  Mildred was white with anger, and paced the room excitedly for a few moments.

“Oh, God, that we had a father!” she gasped.  “There, Belle, let us be patient,” she continued after a few moments; “we can’t contend with such wretches.  I promise you that this shall be your last day in this place.  We ought to have left before.”

Then, as the girls grew calmer, they resolved not to tell either their father or Roger, fearing that they might become embroiled in a dangerous and disgraceful quarrel involving their presence in a police court.  Mildred had given her mother a sedative to quiet her trembling nerves, and she was sleeping in one of the bedrooms, and so happily was not aware of Belle’s encounter.

Mr. Jocelyn soon came in, and, for the first time since Mildred’s warning, was a little the worse for liquor, but he had the self-control to keep quiet, and after a few mouthfuls of supper went to his room overcome by the stupor he had sought.  After the children were sleeping the girls gladly welcomed Roger, for he had become the chief source of light and hope in their saddened lives.  And he did brighten and cheer them wonderfully, for, content with a long and prosperous day’s work, and full of the hopefulness and courage of youth, he imparted hope and fortitude to them in spite of all that was so depressing.