Rosy nodded her head wisely, and employed a full minute in the silent enjoyment of her new red socks. Mrs. Hart was silent also, worshipping her little girl. If children only knew how their mothers worship them! Down went Rosy's legs again. "Where will the doctor bring Bunny from, mother?" "From the parsley-bed," replied the mother, laughing. "Is Bunny there now, mother?" "Yes, dear." "Did _I_ come out of a parsley-bed mother?" "Yes, my dear," and Mrs. Hart smothered Rosy's face and neck with kisses. She was so occupied with her happiness that she did not hear the door, and did not know that any one was in the room until she heard a voice calling her name. The voice belonged to a neighbour, Mrs. Thomson, and Mrs. Hart rose to her feet, and was beginning to tell merrily of the conversation which she had just had with Rosy, when something in Mrs. Thomson's face stopped her tongue. "What's the matter, Mrs. Thomson? What is it? Tell me, quick!" "Now, bear up, Mrs. Hart," said the neighbour; "remember how near your time is, and bear up, there's a good soul!" "What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Hart, thoroughly frightened. "Tell me, quick, for God's sake! Is it anything about Dick? Has he had an accident? Is he hurt! O, why don't you speak!" "Dick's not hurt." "Thank God! But on and off, all this week, I've been frightened about him. It's a shame and a sin to work a man as he's been worked. Who's outside?" She flew to the door, and pulled into the room a man employed by the same Company as her husband. "There's something the matter," she gasped, and caught Rosy up, and pressed the child close to her breast. The man judged wisely that it would be the best to come to the point at once. "Dick sent me to you, Mrs. Hart," he said; "he's had an accident, and one or two people have been hurt; he's all right himself, and he sent me to tell you so." "Why didn't he come himself?" asked the wife, trembling and crying. "Well, you see----" began the man; but Mrs. Hart did not allow him to proceed. "They've put him in prison," she said, with a quick short breath; "my Dick, the best husband and the best father in the world! And they're going to punish him for what's not his fault Do you know how many hours' sleep he's had this week?" "Don't excite yourself, there's a good soul!" remonstrated Mrs. Thomson. "He'll come out of it all right. Think of your baby." "He's not in prison, Mrs. Hart," said the man; "but he's going to remain at the station until after the inquiry." "Mrs. Thomson, will you take care of Rosy till I come back?" "Why, surely, my dear, you're not going out in your condition!" "I'm going to my husband," said Mrs. Hart, "and I'm going to see them managers and directors, and ask them what they're going to do to Dick."