when Mrs. Gerhardt ventured meekly to put the question which she had been revolving in her mind all the afternoon. 

 “Is there any gentleman here,” she said, “who would give me his washing to do? I’d be so very much obliged for it.” 

 The clerk looked at her, and again recognized that absolute want was written all over her anxious face. 

 “Let’s see,” he answered, thinking of Senator Brander and Marshall Hopkins. Both were charitable men, who would be more than glad to aid a poor woman. “You go up and see Senator Brander,” he continued. “He’s in twenty-two. Here,” he added, writing out the number, “you go up and tell him I sent you.” 

 Mrs. Gerhardt took the card with a tremor of gratefulness. Her eyes looked the words she could not say. 

 “That’s all right,” said the clerk, observing her emotion. “You go right up. You’ll find him in his room now.” 

 With the greatest diffidence Mrs. Gerhardt knocked at number twenty-two. Jennie stood silently at her side. 

 After a moment the door was opened, and in the full radiance of the bright room stood the Senator. Attired in a handsome smoking-coat, he looked younger than at their first meeting. 

 “Well, madam,” he said, recognizing the couple, and particularly the daughter, “what can I do for you?” 

 Very much abashed, the mother hesitated in her reply. 

 “We would like to know if you have any washing you could let us have to do?” 

 “Washing?” he repeated after her, in a voice which had a peculiarly resonant quality. “Washing? Come right in. Let me see.” 

 He stepped aside with much grace, waved them in and closed the door. “Let me see,” he repeated, opening and closing drawer after drawer of the massive black-walnut bureau. Jennie studied the room with interest. Such an array of nicknacks and pretty things on mantel and dressing-case she had never seen before. The Senator’s easy-chair, with a green-shaded lamp beside it, the rich heavy carpet and the fine rugs upon the floor—what comfort, what luxury! 

 “Sit down; take those two chairs there,” said the Senator, graciously, disappearing into a closet. 

 Still overawed, mother and daughter thought 

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