"Mr. Lambert came here twice before Maurice was well enough to know him, and showed a good deal of anxiety till he was out of danger, growling to himself that he ought to have stopped the fight earlier. He gave the doctor some money for Maurice when he goes away; but the boy knows nothing of that yet. When Mr. Lambert saw Maurice he scolded him well; said a street fighter was a mean fellow and ought to be arrested, and hoped he should never hear of his street brawls again. "His voice was so loud that some of the little ones began to cry, but Maurice spoke up rather saucily,— "I'd fight for you, sir, to-morrow, if you was hit. I know you're jolly, for all your scolding.'" "Well," said Marion, laughing heartily, "what did Mr. Lambert say to that?" "Not a word that we could understand. He went away with his handkerchief to his face, but when he reached the street he shook all over with laughter." "Shall I sing for the children now?" "They will be delighted to hear you." Standing in the midst of the ward, with the little ones pressing to her side, Marion sang the sweet melody set to the words,— "Will you come where the sweet-briar grows, Where the heath flower blossoms around? Will you come where the hyacinth blows, And the daisy just peeps from the ground? There's a bower by the side of yon lake, 'Tis the chosen abode of the rose; Where the wings of the linnet awake The leaves from their calm repose." Every word was distinctly enunciated, and the children, with bated breath and sparkling eyes, proved their appreciation by calling out, "More! Please, Miss Howard, sing more." Smiling, she gave them the mocking-bird, which was followed by shouts of applause. CHAPTER XVIII. A MYSTERY SOLVED. MISS HOWARD was leaving the hospital when she met the doctor in charge, who invited her to his private parlor, as he wished to consult her in regard to her protégé Neddy Carter. "I suppose you are acquainted with Mr. Regy,' he said. "He knew your wishes about the boy." "I know him well by report," she answered, "but I have never seen him." "Indeed! He is certainly the most eccentric individual I ever met. Benevolent and tender-hearted to an extreme, he seems to me like a man who has learned to mistrust humanity so generally that he hides every evidence of weakness as carefully as though it were a crime. Why, the good deeds that man does almost defy belief." "I can easily credit your statement, doctor. In my visits to my poor friends, I am constantly hearing of him. I have known of his paying rent for a widow who had a sick daughter, month after month, and at the same time providing her with medicines and food. Yet he would talk to her about her untidyness till he made her cry; and then he would go away grumbling that all he could say did no good."