“I can’t guess. Oh, tell me quick, Rosie.” “She says she’s going to let me give him his bath Saturdays and Sundays and wheel him out every day in his carriage.” “Rosie,” Maida said impressively, “you ought to be the happiest little girl in the world. Think of having a baby brother for a Christmas present. You will let me wheel him sometimes, won’t you?” “Of course I will. I shall divide him exactly in half with you.” “Where has your mother been all this time?” Maida asked. “Oh, she’s been dreadfully sick in a hospital. She was sick after the baby came to her—so sick that she couldn’t even take care of him. She said they were afraid she was going to die. But she’s all right now. Father bought her for Christmas a beautiful, long, red-silk dress that’s just to lie down in. She looks like a queen in it, and yet she looks like a little girl, too, for her hair is done in two braids. Her hair comes way down below her waist like your mother’s hair. And when I gave her the little silver heart, she was so pleased with it. She put it right on and it looked sweet. She said she would much rather wear it on a black velvet ribbon than on a silver chain.” “Everything’s come out all right, hasn’t it?” Maida said with ecstasy. “I guess it has. Now I must go. I want to be sure to be there when the baby wakes up. I asked my mother when you could see the baby, Maida, and she said to-morrow. I can’t wait to show you its feet—you never did see such little toes in your life.” Exciting as this event was, it was as nothing to what followed. Granny and Maida were still talking about Rosie’s happiness when Billy Potter suddenly came marching through the shop and into the living-room. “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!” they all said at once. “Granny,” Billy asked immediately, “if you could have your choice of all the Christmas gifts in the world, which one would you choose?” An expression of bewilderment came into Granny’s bright blue eyes. “A Christmas gift, Misther Billy,” she said in an uncertain tone; “I cudn’t t’ink of a t’ing as long as Oi can’t have me little Annie wid me.” Maida saw Billy’s eyes snap and sparkle at the word Annie. She wondered what—Could it be possible that—She began to tremble. “And so you’d choose your daughter, Granny?” Billy questioned. “Choose my daughter. Av coorse Oi wud!” Granny stopped to stare in astonishment at Billy. “Oh, Misther Billy, if you cud only foind her!” She gazed imploringly at him. Billy continued to smile at her, his eyes all “skrinkled up.” Granny jumped to her feet. She seized Billy’s arm. “Oh, Misther Billy, you _have_ found her,” she quavered. Billy nodded. “I’ve found her, Granny! I told you I would and I have. Now don’t get excited. She’s all right and you’re all right and everything’s all right. She’ll be here just as soon as you’re ready to see her.”