"I took the child home to mother, not knowing what else to do; but she wouldn't have it at any price, even for a night. She doesn't like children, you know, and father has joked so much about the Pointers that she is quite rampant at the mere idea of a child in the house. She told me to take it to the Rose Garden. I said it was running over now, and no room even for a mite like this. 'Go to the Hospital,' says she. 'Baby isn't ill, ma'am,' says I. 'Orphan Asylum,' says she. 'Not an orphan: got a father who can't take care of her,' says I. 'Take her to the Foundling place, or Mrs. Gardener, or some one whose business it is. I will _not_ have the creature here, sick and dirty and noisy. Carry it back, and ask Rose to tell you what to do with it.' So my cruel parent cast me forth; but relented as I shouldered baby, gave me a shawl to put her in, a jumble to feed her with, and money to pay her board in some good place. Mother's bark is always worse than her bite, you know." "And you were trying to think of the 'good place' as you sat here?" asked Rose, looking down at him with great approval, as he stood patting Rosa's glossy neck. "Exactly. I didn't want to trouble you, for you have your house full already; and I really couldn't lay my hand on any good soul who would be bothered with this little forlornity. She has nothing to recommend her, you see,--not pretty, feeble, and shy as a mouse; no end of care, I dare say: yet she needs every bit she can get to keep soul and body together, if I'm any judge." Rose opened her lips impulsively, but closed them without speaking, and sat a minute looking straight between Rosa's ears, as if forcing herself to think twice before she spoke. Mac watched her out of the corner of his eye, as he said, in a musing tone, tucking the shawl round a pair of shabby little feet the while,-- "This seems to be one of the charities that no one wants to undertake; yet I can't help feeling that my promise to the mother binds me to something more than merely handing baby over to some busy matron or careless nurse in any of our over-crowded institutions. She is such a frail creature she won't trouble any one long, perhaps; and I _should_ like to give her just a taste of comfort, if not love, before she finds her 'Marmar' again." "Lead Rosa: I'm going to take this child home; and, if uncle is willing, I'll adopt her, and she _shall_ be happy!" cried Rose, with the sudden glow of feeling that always made her lovely. And, gathering poor baby close, she went on her way like a modern Britomart, ready to redress the wrongs of any who had need of her.