"I thought I must come right over and hear all about it," she exclaimed, sinking gracefully into an arm-chair and lifting Toddlekyns to her lap. "So the case went against her. I heard something about it from Mrs. Somerville. And she will really have to give him up! Too bad! Can I see her? I suppose she feels dreadfully just at first.... At the hospital? You don't say so.... Brain fever? Why, they always die of that, don't they?... Well, I feel very sorry for her, though I must say I sympathize with Richard too." "On what account?" demanded Mrs. Pennybacker. "Oh, because everybody is so down on him. It has almost broken off the intimacy between him and Dr. Semple, they say." "Good for Dr. Semple!" "Well--I don't know--I suppose I am broader-minded than some people. I can always see both sides." "So can I when there are two sides. This case has but one." "Well," said Mrs. Van Dorn, in an argumentative tone that was new to her, "anyway, I think it was very natural that Richard should want to carry out his brother's wishes. But," she cast her eyes down modestly and toyed with Toddlekyns' silky ears,--"wouldn't you almost think he would _have_ to have somebody to help him--in bringing this child up?" "Humph!" came from her aunt. "He has Mammy Cely," said Bess, innocently. "Oh, Mammy Cely--an old negro--yes. But anybody that has a child to rear would feel the need, I should think, of a sympathizing--well I don't care, _I_ think if Richard De Jarnette is really going to take Philip, he should look out for somebody to be a mother to him." "And I think he had better let him stay with the mother the Lord gave him!" cried Bess, indignantly, with a flash of her grandmother's spirit. Mrs. Pennybacker contented herself with looking keenly at her niece over her spectacles. There was something about the look that embarrassed Mrs. Van Dorn. "I don't want you to think I don't sympathize with Margaret, Aunt Mary." she began. "It isn't that, at all. I feel awfully sorry for her. I know she will feel lonely at first. I thought about it at home--how lonely I should be if I should lose Toddlekyns--and I just made up my mind to let her have him for a few days--till the worst of it is over. I may yet, when she gets back from the hospital." Mrs. Pennybacker shut her lips firmly together and shook her head. "I wouldn't do it Maria," she said, hastily. She moved over to the window and took up her knitting, leaving Mrs. Van Dorn to Bess's entertainment. It was hard for anything to hold her thoughts long to-day away from the child of her adoption. She had come back from the hospital sorely troubled about her and was falling back, from life-long habit, upon her inevitable resource when burdened--work. But as the knitting needles flew in her swift fingers, her thoughts were with Margaret and her fight against fate.