“Let her alone, you miserable cuss!” he cried, and giving his drunken companion a shove, sent him staggering across the street. This made the way clear, and Edith sprang forward, but she had gone only a few feet when she came face to face with another obstruction even more frightful, if possible, than the first. A woman with a red, swollen visage, black eye, soiled, tattered, drunk, with arms wildly extended, came rushing up to her. The child gave a scream. The wretched creature caught at a shawl worn by Edith, and was dragging it from her shoulders, when the door of one of the houses flew open, and a woman came out hastily. Grasping the assailant, she hurled her across the street with the strength of a giant. “We're going to the mission,” said the child. “It's just down there. Go 'long. I'll stand here and see that no one meddles with you again.” Edith faltered her thanks, and went on. “That's the queen,” said her companion. “The queen!” Edith's hasty tones betrayed her surprise. “Yes; it's Norah. They're all afraid of her. I'm glad she saw us. She's as strong as a man.” In a few minutes they reached the mission, but in those few minutes Edith saw more to sadden the heart, more to make it ache for humanity, than could be described in pages. The missionary was at home. Edith told him the purpose of her call and the locality she desired to visit. “I wanted to go alone,” she remarked, “but this little girl, who is in my class at the sewing-school, said it wouldn't be safe, and that you would go with me.” “I should be sorry to have you go alone into Grubb's court,” said the missionary, kindly, and with concern in his voice, “for a worse place can hardly be found in the city--I was going to say in the world. You will be safe with me, however. But why do you wish to visit Grubb's court? Perhaps I can do all that is needed.” “This little girl who lives in there, has been telling me about a poor neglected baby that her mother says has no doubt been stolen, and--and--” Edith voice faltered, but she quickly gained steadiness under a strong effort of will: “I thought perhaps I might be able to do something for it--to get it into one of the homes, maybe. It is dreadful, sir, to think of little babies being neglected.” Mr. Paulding questioned the child who had brought Edith to the mission-house, and learned from her that the baby was merely boarded by the woman who had it in charge, and that she sometimes took it out and sat on the street, begging. The child repeated what she had said to Edith--that the baby was the property, so to speak, of two abandoned women, who paid its board.