should be, for Arthur stayed so much in New York, and his mother was so cold and grand and stiff, that I lay awake nights to hate her, and when Alice was born the Duchess sent her out to nurse, because I was low-bred and vulgar, and Arthur got sick of me and stayed in New York more than ever, and left me to fight my way alone with the dragons, and I got so at last that _I did fight good_.” Her eyes were flashing fiercely, and Magdalen, who had listened breathlessly to the strange story, could readily imagine just how that black-eyed, high-spirited creature _did fight_, as she termed it, when once she was fairly roused to action. There were rage and passion delineated in every feature now, and her face was a bright purple as she hurled her invectives against Arthur’s mother and sister Clarissa, who, it would seem, had persecuted her so sorely, and who were now “lying under the snow.” “They gave me no peace day or night. They took Allie away. They turned Arthur against me; they said I was low and ignorant and poor, and finally they hinted that I was crazy,—made so by _temper_,—and _that_ I would not stand, so I went away; and Arthur went East and I West to mother, and the baby was born, which Arthur knew nothing about, and mother died, and the other baby died, and I was alone, and went awhile to Mrs. Storms; and then I drifted back here. I don’t know how, nor when, nor where, nor what happened after I left Mrs. Storms only I lost baby, but I didn’t kill it, Heaven knows I didn’t. I lost it, but Providence sent it back, so I can see it, though nobody else does, and it’s there in the cradle, and I’ve rocked it ever since, and worn the carpet through. Don’t you see the white spots? Those are baby’s footprints.”