"If I only had a cup o' tea," the old lady said, "I could go on better, but my money is well nigh gone, and I can't afford it."

"Oh," said the young lady to herself, whom we shall call Miss Elsworth. "Oh, I wish I could turn them away when they come, but I can't. I might just as well try to stop my own hunger as to try to turn one away that is hungry, and I'll just slip in and get her a cup of tea to help her on her way. It will rest her, I am sure."

Miss Elsworth touched the woman lightly on the shoulder, saying: "Come into the kitchen and I will give you a lunch; I know a cup of tea will do you good."

The old lady arose, and wiping the tears away, said:

"G.o.d bless you, miss; I am sure you will get your reward some day for doing so great a favor."

"It is no favor," Miss Elsworth said, as she led the way to the kitchen. "Only I shall be obliged to ask you to be as quick as possible, for I am about to go out to look for a housekeeper, and I wish to find her before she is otherwise engaged. It is so hard to find a trusty one."

"Is it?"

"Yes; one has to be cautious."

Miss Elsworth hurried about and soon had a steaming cup of fragrant tea and a tempting lunch prepared for the old lady.

"Sit down, now, and perhaps you will be better able to walk after you have eaten your lunch," said Miss Elsworth.

Mrs. Morris took her seat by the table, and as she sipped her tea and broke a fresh bun she said:

"What a terrible place New York is. I hadn't no idee it was so big."

"Have you just arrived here?" Miss Elsworth asked.

"Yes; I jest come from the country. I've got to get a place to work."

"What can you do."

"I was cooking in a hotel in the village before I came here."

"Why did you come to such a place as New York?"

"Well, I'll tell you. I was working in Ghent in a hotel, and the other night I had an awful dream. I dreamed about a span o' black horses. It worried me considerable, but I thought p'r'aps 'twas foolish to think about it, but the next night I dreamed about a lot o' mud fallin' down on my head, and then I knew somethin' had happened to my poor boy. You see, I've got a boy here in New York somewhere, and you never can begin to guess how I do love that boy. He is the purtiest boy in the whole world."

Miss Elsworth looked at the old lady, thinking that her son might be pretty, as she said, for she herself must have been a very handsome woman in her youthful days. Her features were finely chiseled, and the dark hair streaked with gray was as smooth and as soft as a piece of satin. But there were lines of care around the delicate mouth and across the broad forehead, and though she might have been pure at heart, there was a lack of education and a manner that caused Miss Elsworth to pity rather than ridicule her.

"Is your son very young?" Miss Elsworth asked.

"Oh, no; he's nigh on to thirty, but you see he's sorter wild, and I'm jest afraid in a big place like this he'll git into something awful. They say they's so much mischief goin' on here."

"How did you expect to find him? Have you his address?"

"Oh, dear, no; all I've got to go by is his picture."

Miss Elsworth smiled.

"That is rather a slim guide. How did you expect to find his place of residence by that?"

"Why, I jest thought I might show it to folks now and then, and perhaps they'd know him."

Miss Elsworth smiled again. The idea of coming to New York to hunt up a prodigal son, with simply a photograph to aid her, seemed extremely ludicrous.

"And to think that I am here, all alone, without hardly any money.

Why, I don't believe I'd 'a' dared to come to New York if I'd 'a' had forty dreams, if I'd knowed what a terrible big place it was."

"What did you intend to do while you are here?"

"Why, I thought as like as not I could get a chance to work. You see, I'm a awful good cook. Perhaps you know of some one that wants one?"

"Can you do other work besides, such as dusting and cleaning?"

"Oh, yes; I can do any kind of work."

"I had just started to look for a housekeeper, and as you are looking for a place, you might try it here for a while. Your duties will not be arduous, as I am alone, though you will be required to take charge of all the work, as I am not wealthy, and am not able to keep other help."

"Oh, oh, I am so glad. I am sure I can suit you. I'll show you my boy's picture, and if you should ever meet him you can tell me."

She drew from her pocket a photograph carefully wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and, unfolding it, she handed it to Miss Elsworth. She started as she gazed at the features.

"How very handsome he is," she said. "He should be very good."

"Oh, my, that's the trouble. I'm afraid he gets into bad company, for along at first he uster send me some money now and then, but for a year or two he don't ever write to me."

"Are you sure he is in New York?"

"Oh, la me, no. I tracked him from one place to another, and the last time I heard from him they told me he was in New York, but didn't know whether he was going to stay there or not."

"I am afraid you will be obliged to give up the search, but if I can aid you I will do so."

"Oh, thank you. I am so glad that I have got a place to stay, anyway, for a while, and p'r'aps when I find Charley he'll provide for me."

"I hope he will at least treat you as a son should treat a mother; but tell me how old you are, and if you are able to work."

"Well, you see, I ain't so old as I look, but Charley has worried me a lot, and that makes me look old, but I ain't quite fifty, and I am sure I'm as strong and able to work as I was when I was twenty; but I was thinkin' just now that p'r'aps Charley has got married, and his wife is proud and won't let him take care o' me. Charley didn't like to work very well, anyhow, but he might take care of us two, for he was a good enough carpenter and jiner. But I know if he's got wild it's all owin' to the tricks of this awful big city."

"The city is a bad place for a person out of employment."

"Well, I'm dreadful glad I've found a place," said Mrs. Morris, arising from the table.

"And if everything proves satisfactory, I shall be glad that I have found a housekeeper," said Miss Elsworth.

A less courageous person might have been shocked at the idea of taking a stranger into her house, as Miss Elsworth took Mrs. Morris, but she knew enough of city life to know that there was no great safety in dealing with strangers. But Mrs. Morris had an honest look and a simple, honest way, and Miss Elsworth was very much in need of a housekeeper, and so she decided to accept Mrs. Morris on trial.

The people across the way wondered why it was so very quiet about the place opposite. They saw a beautiful young lady come and go, but they knew neither her name nor occupation. Indeed, she did not seem to have any, for she was seldom seen on the street, and when she was seen she was closely veiled, as one afraid of being recognized, and was always neatly, though plainly dressed. There was any amount of mail left at her door, which fact gave rise to much speculation by gossiping and curious neighbors. They thought it very strange that a handsome young woman, seemingly without occupation, should live there with only a housekeeper. But they were none the wiser, when several months had elapsed and still she remained, coming and going in the same strange manner.

Mrs. Morris had proved herself a very trusty and efficient housekeeper, and though she was possessed of rather a peculiar disposition, she was never ill tempered.