At the end of the week, the devoted young nurse had the delight of hearing her "Angel" laugh outright, for the first time in so many days, and to feel her darling's arms about her own neck while the pale little lips cried out once more the familiar, "Bonny come! Bonny come!" To catch her tiny "Guardian" up and run with her to the cottage-door took but a minute, but there Glory's enthusiasm was promptly dashed by Mary's appearance. Shaking her arms vigorously, she "shooed" the pair away, as she "shooed" everything objectionable out of her path. "Stand back! Stand back, the two of ye! Don't dast to come anigh, sence the time of gettin' over things is the very worst time to give 'em. Hurry back to the wagon-house, quick, quick! And once you're safe inside, I'll fetch you some other clothes that you must both put on. Every stitch you've wore, ary one, and the bedclothes, has got to be burnt. Tim's to burn 'em this noonin'. I've got no girl your size, but that don't matter. I've cut off an old skirt o' my own, for your outside, an' little Joe's your very pattern for shape, so his shirt an' blouse 'll do amazin' well. As for the baby, she can put on a suit of the twinses' till so be we can do better. Now hurry up!" Glory could not help lingering for a moment to ask, "Must it be burned? Do you really, truly, mean to burn Bonny Angel's lovely white silk coat, an' her pretty dress all lace an' trimmin'? An' my blue frock--why, I haven't wore it but two years, that an' the other one to home. It's as good as good, only lettin' out tucks now and then an'----" "Huh! S'pose you, a little girl, know more about what's right than I do, a big growed up woman? I've took you in an' done for ye all this time an' the least you can do is to do as you're told," replied Mrs. Fogarty, in her sharpest manner. Thus reprimanded, Glory retreated to the wagon-house, whence, after a time, she reappeared so altered by her new attire that she scarcely knew herself. Much less, did she think, that any old friend of Elbow Lane would recognize her. She was next directed to carry all the discarded clothing and bedding to a certain spot in the barnyard, where Timothy would make a bonfire of it as soon as he appeared; and her heart ached to part with the silken coat which had enwrapped her precious "Guardian," even though it were now soiled and most disreputable. However, these were minor troubles. The joyful fact remained that Bonny Angel had not died but was already recovered and seemed more like her own gay little self with every passing moment. Clothes didn't matter, even if they were those of a boy. They needed considerable hitching up and pinning, for they were as minus of buttons as all the garments seemed to be which had to pass through Mary Fogarty's hands and washtub; but a few strings would help and maybe Timothy Dowd could supply those; and if once Take-a-Stitch could get her fingers upon a needle and thread--my, how she would alter everything!