Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
Coming Home
Old Friends with New Faces
Miss Campbell
Thorns Among the Roses
Prince Charming
Polishing Mac
Phebe
Breakers Ahead
New Year's Calls
The Sad and Sober Part
Small Temptations
At Kitty's Ball
Both Sides
Aunt Clara's Plan
Alas for Charlie!
Good Works
Among the Haycocks
Which Was It?
Behind the Fountain
What Mac Did
How Phebe Earned Her Welcome
Short and Sweet

do with her. I took her home, of course, but mother turned her out 

of the house, and I'm in a quandary." 

 

"Is that her baggage?" asked Rose, pointing with her whip to the 

large bundle which he held while the wild idea flashed through her 

head that perhaps he really had done some rash deed of this sort. 

 

"No, this is the young lady herself." And, opening a corner of the 

brown shawl, he displayed a child of three so pale, so thin and tiny 

that she looked like a small scared bird just fallen from the nest as 

she shrank away from the light with great frightened eyes and a 

hand like a little claw tightly clutched a button of Mac's coat. 

 

"Poor baby! Where did it come from?" cried Rose, leaning down to 

look. 

 

"I'll tell you the story, and then you shall advise me what to do. At 

our hospital we've had a poor woman who got hurt and died two 

days ago. I had nothing to do with her, only took her a bit of fruit 

once or twice, for she had big, wistful sort of eyes that haunted me. 

The day she died I stopped a minute, and the nurse said she'd been 

wanting to speak to me but didn't dare. So I asked if I could do 

anything for her and, though she could hardly breathe for pain 

being almost gone she implored me to take care of baby. I found 

out where the child was, and promised I'd see after her for the poor 

soul couldn't seem to die till I'd given her that comfort. I never can 

forget the look in her eyes as I held her hand and said, 'Baby shall 

be taken care of.' She tried to thank me, and died soon after quite 

peacefully. Well, I went today and hunted up the poor little wretch. 

Found her in a miserable place, left in the care of an old hag who 

had shut her up alone to keep her out of the way, and there this 

mite was, huddled in a corner, crying 'Marmar, marmar!' fit to 

touch a heart of stone. I blew up at the woman and took the baby 

straightaway, for she had been abused. It was high time. Look 

there, will you?" 

 

Mac turned the little skinny arm and showed a blue mark which 

made Rose drop her reins and stretch out both hands, crying with a 

tender sort of indignation: "How dared they do it? Give her to me, 

poor little motherless thing!" 


Page 5 from 10:  Back   1   2   3   4  [5]  6   7   8   9   10   Forward