"Poor girl!" ejaculated the young doctor, "this may lead to her identification. We do not even know her name," he explained to Miss Stannard. "A case of paralysis,--almost helpless. Never has spoken since brought here. Yes," in answer to Miss Ruth's eager inquiries, "she has gotten so that she can make signs for yes and no." At once Miss Stannard turned to the girl, from whose lap Norma was trying to draw the expostulating Angel. "Do you know Angel?" she asked, her hand on the child as she spoke. There was a slight affirmative droop to the eyelids, while the gaze beneath was fixed imploringly on Miss Ruth. "Are you Rosy?" she asked. "My Yosie, it _is_ my Yosie!" declared the Angel, with one of her little bursts of baby rage, pulling away from Norma and stamping her foot, frantic that any doubt should exist. At this point, Mrs. O'Malligan, who had been following in her comfortable fashion, unconscious of any excitement, drew near. Suddenly there was an excited cry from that lady. "Howly Mither, an' it's Mrs. Buckley's own sister, Rosy O'Brien, fer sure!" The wild eyes of the sick girl turned towards Mrs. O'Malligan with signs of recognition. The doctor repeated his story. "She must have been Angel's nurse," said Miss Stannard. "An' was it the darlint's nurse ye war, Rosy O'Brien?" inquired Mrs. O'Malligan. "Yes," signalled the eyelids, whereupon Mrs. O'Malligan, swaying her body to and fro, and clapping her hands, burst forth suddenly, "I say through wid it all, I say through wid it all! Ye brought the Angel choild to the Tiniment wid ye to say your sister, now, didn't ye, Rosy, me jewel?" The good Irish lady waited for the affirmative droop from the eager eyes. "An' maybe ye found the door locked, an' not knowin' yer sister had moved away an' Miss Johnson, what goes to the car stables a-cleanin' by the day, livin' in her room now, ye set the choild down in the empty room a-nixt to it, an' run down to ask me as to whir yer sister had gone, now, didn't ye, Rosy O'Brien?" and Mrs. O'Malligan's garlanded bonnet fell over one ear in the good soul's excitement. Thus far apparently she was right. "An' I wasn't to home, for sure I niver seen ye," ventured Mrs. O'Malligan, her hands now on her hips as she gazed at the girl and pondered. She was right again. "An' what happened thin, I niver can say no further!" The doctor, referring to a note book, spoke next. "She was brought here," he said, "on the seventh of last July, about six o'clock in the evening, having been knocked down by a horse at the corner of Camden and Lisiden Streets." "Whist!" cried Mrs. O'Malligan, her shawl fallen to the floor, her bonnet now hanging by the strings down her back, "that's our own corner, an' it's as plain to me now as the nose on yer face! Not findin' me to home, ye were runnin' over to the grocery to find out from yer sister's husband's brother Bill whativer had become of the family!"