"The bearded woman in the dime museum," answered Mrs. O'Keefe, nodding her head. "She lived with me three months, and she furnished the room herself. When she went away she was hard up, and I bought the furniture of her cheap. You remember Madam Berger, don't you, Dodger?" "Oh, yes, I seen her often." "She got twenty-five dollars a week, and she'd ought to have saved money, but she had a good-for-nothin' husband that drank up all her hard earnin's." "I hope she didn't drink herself," said Florence, who shuddered at the idea of succeeding a drunken tenant. "Not a drop. She was a good, sober lady, if she did work in a dime museum. She only left here two weeks ago. It isn't every one I'd be willin' to take in her place, but I see you're a real leddy, let alone that Dodger recommends you. I hope you'll like the room, and I'll do all I can to make things pleasant. You can go into my room any hour, my dear, and do your little cookin' on my stove. I s'pose you'll do your own cookin'?" "Well, not just at present," faltered Florence. "I am afraid I don't know much about cooking." "You'll find it a deal cheaper, and it's more quiet and gentale than goin' to the eatin'-houses. I'll help you all I can, and glad to." "Thank you, Mrs. O'Keefe, you are very kind," said Florence, gratefully. "Perhaps just at first you wouldn't object to taking me as a boarder, and letting me take my meals with you. I don't think I would like to go to the eating-houses alone." "To be sure, my dear, if you wish it, and I'll be glad of your company. I'll make the terms satisfactory." "I have no doubt of that," said Florence, feeling very much relieved. "If I might be so bold, what kind of work are you going to do?" "I hardly know. It has come upon me so suddenly. I shall have to do something, for I haven't got much money. What I should like best would be to write----" "Is it for the papers you mean?" "Oh, no; I mean for some author or lawyer." "I don't know much about that," said Mrs. O'Keefe. "In fact, I don't mind tellin' you, my dear, that I can't write myself, but I earn a good livin' all the same by my apple-stand. I tell you, my dear," she