The sharp Irish lady had hit it again, and Miss Ruth here interrupted to ask Miss Bonkowski if she could remember the date on which the child had been found in the vacant room. After some thought and debate, Miss Norma declared it to have been on the morning of the eighth of July, because her own birthday came on the fifteenth and she remembered remarking the child had then been with them a week. But here the whole party came to a standstill, and the wild, imploring look came back in poor Rosy O'Brien's eyes. The doctor laid his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't fret, my girl, it will all come right now in time. It is no wonder," turning to Miss Stannard, "she has been so slow getting better. I have said a hundred times the girl had something on her mind." Miss Ruth turned to Rosy again. "Does the child's mother, or do her people live here in the city?" she inquired. The eyelids failed to move, which according to the doctor meant _no_. "What will we do," sighed Miss Ruth, "for the more the child is asked, the more perplexed we get, and now----" "Sure an' we'll ask Mrs. Buckley, Rosy's sister, an' she'll tell us all about it," said the practical Mrs. O'Malligan. "I remember well of her tellin' me of the foine wages Rosy was a-gittin; along of her goin' off so fur wid some rich lady as a nurse." At this hopeful point the doctor interfered, thinking best to prevent any further exciting of his patient, and accordingly wheeled her back to her ward, leaving the others to soothe the terror of the child, at seeing hope vanish with Rosy. Pausing outside the big hospital in a trembling and excited little group, Miss Stannard detailed her plans. As the snow was coming down steadily, Miss Bonkowski should return to the Tenement at once with the excited, sobbing child, and Mrs. O'Malligan should take Miss Ruth to find Mrs. Buckley, the sister of poor Rosy O'Brien. * * * * * "And do you know," explained Miss Ruth that evening, to Mr. Dilke, who had fallen into a way of calling quite frequently indeed, of late, "and do you know, this woman, this Mrs. Buckley would not believe us, but insisted that her sister, Rosy O'Brien, as well as the child her sister had nursed, were drowned in that terrible ferry-boat disaster last July. After what seemed to me hours of catechising, I got the story from her. "A year ago, as I finally found out, her sister, this same Rosy O'Brien, went South with a Mr. and Mrs. De Leon Breaux, whose child she had been nursing at Narragansett during the summer. "This spring, Mrs. Buckley, living then in the Tenement where the child was afterward found, received a letter from Rosy, saying she would be in the city with her mistress for a few days in July on their way to the seashore for the summer.