uld tell himabout Mrs. Hochmuller and returned the next evening with a scrap ofpaper bearing her address, beneath whi

He was a kind man,and she knew he would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken;indeed she read in his timi

dered as she stepped ashore, but a paternal policeman put herinto the right car, and as in a dream she found herself retracingthe way to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told the conductor thename of the street at which she wished to get out, and presentlyshe stood in the biting wind at the corner near the beer-saloon,where the sun had once beat down on her so fiercely. At length anempty car appeared, its yellow flank emblazoned with the name

ith agable overhung by an elm-tree; but everything about her seemedunfamiliar and forbidding. One or two surly

Eliza venturedto confide her difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him withan instant willingness to le

her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate andwalked up to the door. Her heart was beati

to notice how much the appearance of the househad changed. It was not only that winter had stripped the elm, andblackened the flower-borders: t

er head and a baby in her armsappeared on the threshold, and glancing past her into the narrowpa

o, didye say?""Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her hous

mean the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I cameout to see her la

Mike McNulty lives herenow. Whisht!" to th

round here. Can't youtell me?""Sure an' I can't," said the woman. "She wint away beforeiver we come

eeI must find Mrs. Hochmuller.""Why don't ye go and look for

nsityof her disappointment, till a burst of loud voices in

happened, and pausingin the road she look

sted face might appear a

terminus a car was just moving off towardHoboken, and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner inthe bitter wind. Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when thecar at length loomed into sight again, and she thought of stoppingsomewhere on the way to the ferry for a cup of tea; but before theregion of lunch-rooms was reached she had grown so sick and dizzythat the though

hear the resultof the trip, found Ann Eliza si

ourface is just as red!""It's nothing. I guess I caught

either, if you ain'tcareful," Mrs. Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placidexterior she cherished a morbid passion for disease and death, andthe sight of Ann Eliza's suffering had roused her from her habitualindifference. "There ain't so many folks comes to the storeanyhow," she went on with unconscious cruelty, "and I

instead of taking care,and there was a momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowedthe tea like an obedient child, allowed a poultice to be applied toher aching chest and

er warn't there." The te

ved?""Over two months ago--and

s?""There, there, Miss Bunner.

gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bendingdown, kissed her on the forehead. "Don

rns inminding the shop. Every morning, when her friends appeared, AnnEliza lifted her head to ask: "Is there a letter?" and at theirgentle negative sank back in silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for

n her rocking-chair near the stove, while MissMellins studied the Police Gazett

had news to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide heranx

wkins in his draggingvoice. "I've been ove

u HAVE?""I made a thorough search,

.""It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins." Ann Eliza's voicestruggled

fbad news, stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go.

, to ask himto advise her; but the words c

into the street. It hadoccurred to her in one of the weary watches of the previous nightthat she might go to Tiffany's and make enquiries about Ramy'spast. Possibly in that way she might obtain some information thatwould

ed if she should everget as far as Union Square; but by walking very slowly, andstanding still now and then

e felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployedeyes as she moved for

having to approach one of the impressivegentlemen who paced the empty aisles,

ade her almost despair of explaining herself; butshe finally disentangled fro

s veins with suddenstrength. "I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see thehead of the department.""Mr. Loomis?" His stare still weighed her--then he seemed tobrush aside t

ring interminable vistas: clocks of allsizes and voices, from the bell-throated giant of the hallway tothe chirping dressing-table toy; tall clocks of mahogany and brasswith cathedral chimes; clocks of bronze, glass, po

, and Ann Eliza repeated herr

t the other end."He pointed to a kind of box

the name of Mr. Loomis, and which wasreceived with an appreciative chuckle. She suspected hers

in sat a gray-bearded man at a desk. He looke

the others, though sheguessed him to be above them in authority; and encour

ll me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employedhere in the clock-depa

my sister lastOctober and they went to St. Louis, I ain't had any news of themfor over two months, and she's my only sister, and

heads of the clock-department," Ann Eli

The name again?""Ramy--Herman Ramy."There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter ofleave

ry workmen,and left us three years and a half ago la

aking. A capable workman, but we couldn't keep himstraight. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it seems fairer,since you say you're anxious about your sister."The polished sides of the office v

less for days."As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had comeon Mr. Ramy sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. Shesaw again the blurred unrecognizing eyes h

ght afterward. Idon't know how to find her. I thought maybe somebody here mightknow about him.""Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your