"But where is her baby!" asked Adelaide. "She said she had lost her baby. We must find it for her." "Adelaide," said her mother sternly, "go to your room at once. It is not proper for you to ask questions about such matters. Your father and Mr. Bombs will make whatever search the doctor thinks necessary." Half an hour afterwards Dr. Orison returned to the guests and reported the woman to be out of danger. His silence with regard to the baby was understood to mean that it had never lived and that it was a matter of no earthly consequence. A matter of much greater interest to one and all of the gay people assembled there, appeared to be Mr. Bombs' ingenious explanation with regard to the failure of his piece and his prompt action in turning on the hose for the quenching of the fire--for the last of which he received many compliments. On the contrary Adelaide could think of nothing but the gardener's wife and her lost baby. She could not sleep. She was in an agony of suspense--to know how it had fared with them. She thought the guests would talk it over at the breakfast table; but she was mistaken. Not a word was said about it and all seemed as lively as though nothing at all had happened. She did not dare to ask them any questions on the subject after her mother's rebuke, but she knew she could ask her father. She saw him out on the hill and ran after him. "Mary! poor Mary! how is she, father?" she gasped out. "O! she's all right Addie, only a little scare. She'll be all right again in a few days the doctor says." "And the baby. Did you find the baby?" "Yes we found it, Addie, and took it to her. Bombs found it just over there by that clump of milkweeds--but it wasn't much of a find--most assuredly it wasn't. It was dead of course; and I guess it was a Providence for they've got two little tots now and they're not very forehanded. If they kept on at that rate they'll have a swarm of them soon, and I shall have to turn them off." "O don't say that! It's dreadful. She loved her baby and she was in such agony when she lost it! O I never saw such agony! You must not turn them off--never, never. It would be wrong, I know it would after this awful fright! We ought to give them something to make up for it. I know we had, father! I know it! And I'm going to give her all I have got in my purse and I shall remember her as long as I live!" "Softly Addie! Softly! Don't let any of the gentry over there hear you. They'd think you were crazy. We'll fix it between ourselves--we won't be hard on them if they do have a big swarm. We'll see that they don't starve. Most assuredly we will." "They ought to have good big wages. They make the flowers grow so beautifully." "Yes Addie the flowers are all right; but where's the lawn, the green velvet lawn that your mamma raves about so much. The grass can't grow with so many little feet trotting over it."