"But we wanted to see you so much, after all this time," one of them said. "We decided we couldn't wait to be proper. Besides, it would be such a risk. While we waited, you'd run off again. It was really our only way. Ladies, will you see how lovely and white she looks! Perfectly spotless!" The speaker sighed. Her own dress was dark and spot-colored. "I don't see how you do it! I tell Andrew I'd rather dress in white than in velvet--I love it! But, there, I couldn't get a minute to wear the dresses; it would take all my days to do 'em up. Of course, with you it's different. I don't suppose you ever toiled over an ironing-board a day in your life." Miss Theodosia gravely shook her head. "No," she said, curious little twinkling lines deepening round her eyes, "I never did--a day--in my life." "That's what I thought! That's what I told Andrew. 'Theodosia Baxter don't know what work is,' I told him. It's easy enough for some women to wear lovely white things. Simplest thing in the world!" Miss Theodosia's cryptic little smile lingered on her lips and in the clear windows of her eyes, as she gazed past the voluble wife of Andrew, through her vines, at the little House of Children next door. She imagined she heard Stefana singing, high up and sweet, over her work. Wait!--that was not a singing sound! A single shriek shot above the clear humming noise that might be Stefana. Then another--a third! "Some one is hurt!" cried Miss Theodosia, and she kilted her smooth white skirts and ran. Again that dread shriek! Over her shoulder, as she ran, Miss Theodosia gave directions to her startled callers. "Telephone for a doctor--any doctor. In the side hall--on a table!" But could any doctor save the life of that terrible shriek? If it came once more--It came! Miss Theodosia involuntarily closed her eyes to shut out a sight of horror. "Mercy gracious!" She opened them hurriedly at the soft collision of herself with Evangeline. "Who is it? Is it the baby? I've sent for the doctor." Half-remembered, half-read first aids crowded her mind confusedly. Warm water and mustard--that was for hemorrhage--no, no--poison! But did you apply it inside or out? What was that about laying the patient up hill--feet higher--or was it feet lower--down hill? "Take me there, quick! We must do what we can till the doct--oh, the poor baby!" "Mercy gracious goodness! Elly Precious is eatin' bread an' molasses. He's only et one slice, an' most o' that's on his outside. They aint' an'thing worse'n molasses the matter with El--" "There! Oh, there!" As another mournful cry split the air.--"Oh, that! What is it? Who is it?"