was a striking-looking woman, about forty years of age, showing traces of a remarkable beauty. Her soft brown eyes and gentle, magnetic voice attracted him strongly, as with simple generosity she gave him possession of her house and all that it contained, only reserving to herself the right to share in nursing the patients. That very day saw her richly furnished dwelling transformed into a pest-house, where the nameless sufferers of the streets were tended with the greatest care and devotion. Madame Anna—for so this woman was called—never spared herself, and day and night was found at her post, faithful and self-contained. The dreadful sights, the heart-rending scenes, before which Therese often grew sick and faint, and which it took all Philip's strength to endure, Madame Anna bore with a composure and fortitude which gave her fellow-workers fresh courage. Madame Anna, a woman of the town, whose sumptuous house had seen such unholy orgies, now passed from room to room, ministering to the wretched sufferers, the off-scouring of the streets, the very lowest of whom in other days had claimed the right to scoff at her. To this strangely assorted band of workers came one more, Virginia Allen, a girl from a New England town, as fair and good and young as Margaret herself. She had come to join the noble army of martyrs; and
