"Yes. The matron brought in a lot of little boys for me to try the mittens on, and this one was the very last. His likeness to Philip struck me so that before I had time to control myself I had caught him up in my arms and was crying over him. I acted like a baby. But it came over me all at once, what if Philip should ever be cast upon the world like this." Mrs. Pennybacker wiped her eyes. "What was his name?" "Louis. Louis Lesseur. I should think he was just about Philip's age. He seemed so sweet and affectionate. I took him to drive." "Are his parents living?" "His mother is. It is a very sad case, the matron says. She is a widow, has no friends, and they think has only a few months to live. And she is so desperately anxious about what will become of this child. Aunt Mary--" "Yes, Margaret,--" "Would it be foolish and Quixotic in me to take him? I have more money than I shall ever need for myself. And Philip has his own. How could I ever use my surplus better than to give this child a chance in life?" "It might be foolish, Margaret, as the world counts wisdom, but it would be a Christ-like folly. 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.'" Later she said, fearing that she had given undue encouragement, "Margaret, don't do this thing hastily or without sufficient consideration. You would want in the first place to find out all about his antecedents. I should go to see the mother. You don't want a child with bad blood." "He is not responsible for his blood," Margaret said quickly. "No, but you would rather it would be good." "You quoted Christ's words a moment ago. Do you suppose he ever inquired into people's blood before he helped them?" "No, I don't. But--" with a wisdom born of a study of the world, not of the Scriptures--"it will pay you to do it.... Then you ought to find out whether he and Philip like each other. Children have as strong likes and dislikes as grown people." "It is partly on Philip's account that I want to take him. They would be companions. Besides--oh, Aunt Mary, if the next trial should fail--the house is so frightfully still." The following day she took little Louis out to see Philip. The two played beautifully together, but Mammy Cely looked at him askance. Her race is always on the lookout for "poor white trash." "No'm, he don't look lak Philip," she said. "He's got the favor of some chile I've seen, but it ain't Philip." He went with her one day to see his mother. It brought quick tears to Margaret's eyes to witness the meeting. She came back full of pity for the sick girl.