Gilbert kept on his way with the little girl. After a short walk, she paused in front of a miserable tenement house on Pearl Street.

“This is where we live,” she said; “will you go upstairs, sir?”

“If you think I shall not be intruding on your father,” said Gilbert, with instinctive delicacy.

“He will be glad to see a kind face,” said Emma, simply.

“Then if you will lead the way, I will follow,” said our hero.

They clambered up three flights of stairs, and then Emma opened a door and ushered her companion into a small, barely furnished room. On a pallet on the floor was stretched a man of fifty, pale and emaciated, 223with eyes preternaturally bright; his face was turned towards the wall, and he did not see Gilbert.

“Is that you, Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, papa; how do you feel now?” asked the little girl.

“Much the same, my child; did you sell your flowers?”

“Yes, papa, and I have brought you a fresh roll. I have brought some one with me, too.”

Mr. Talbot turned his head, and looked at Gilbert, not without surprise.

“I hope you won’t look upon me as an intruder, sir,” said Gilbert; “your little girl told me you would not, or I would not have ventured to call.”

“I am glad to see you,” said the sick man, “though this is but a poor place to receive company in.”

“I understand your situation, sir,” said Gilbert; “you have been sick and unfortunate.”

“You are right; I was unfortunate first, and sick afterwards. Emma, will you give the young gentleman a chair?”

224“Oh, don’t trouble yourself,” said Gilbert, taking a chair for himself.

Mr. Talbot proceeded: “Five years since, I removed to Chicago, with my little girl, in the hope that in that growing and prosperous Western city I might, at least, earn a comfortable living. I was not wholly without means,—I had about a thousand dollars,—but misfortune pursued me. I was once burnt out, lost my situation by the failure of the firm that employed me, and the end of it all was, that a year ago I found myself bankrupt. Then I decided to come to New York, hoping to succeed better here. I managed, while I was well, to earn a precarious living by copying for lawyers (I am a book-keeper by vocation) but, a month since, I was stricken down by a fever, from which I am only just recovering. How we have got along I can hardly tell you. When I became sick I had but a dollar in my pocket-book, yet we have continued to live. My little Emma,” he continued, looking proudly at the little girl, “has been a great help to me. She has managed to earn a 225little, and has attended upon me by night and by day. I don’t know what I could have done without her.”

“I ought to work for you now, papa,” said the child, simply; “all my life you have been working for me.”

“She is a perfect little woman, though only ten years old,” said the father. “Poor child! her life has been far from bright. I hope the future has some happier days in store for both of us.”

“Only get well, sir,” said Gilbert, cheerfully, “and the happier days will begin.”

“I hope so; but even in health I found it hard to get along.”

At this moment there was a knock at the door.

Emma went to the door, and opened it.

A short, stout, coarse-featured woman entered, and looked about her with the air of one who had come to engage in battle.

“Take a seat, Mrs. Flanders,” said the sick man.

“Much obliged to you, sir,” said the woman, not to be placated by this politeness; “but I can’t stop. I............