she was laid away in the Wells burial lot, and Mi

was a small drinking cup, a child's coat, comb and brush. There were neither tickets nor checks, nor a cent of money. This led Miss Eliza to believe that somewhere there must have been a second purse. She went with the men over the scene of accident and retraced every step from the time she had first seen the woman sleeping in t

t of hand-made lace of the old-fashioned kind. Her hat was cheap and rather tawdry; but everything about h

e were exquisite in quality and handiwork. The little petticoats were dainty and showed expenditure both of

small box containing sever

g this line and had consequently put upon it the ban of their disapproval. Her experience had been so limited that she knew no values.

its contents safely away with the few legal documents and valuables she possessed. She had the business instinct and for

. She put on a big, green-checked apron when she dressed in the morning, and wore it until she prepared for bed at night. She never took it off at

ushed up after her, or stopped to pick up a thread or bit of lint, or straightene

from morning until night with duties. It was all in appearances. Her house was a litter. Garments hung from

f lint, but deep in her soul she was happy. She was posing as an over-worked martyr and was

trouble," she repeated. "

und. I want things to be in order so that they'll not doubt that she's their own. I'm of the opinion that she belongs to folks th

pictured the child's kin appearing in splendor and bearing her away with them. Another element of the case pres

rying her mother decent and respectable in your own folks'

Any Christian woman would have done the same; but I didn't do right to touch the whip to Old Prince. That's where I was at fault; but"-pensively, "who would have thought that an old worn-out brute like him could have had so much ginger in him. It was my fault at not knowi

tching in color the blue of the midsummer sky. She was good-tempered and healthy. She smiled from the time she awoke until she fell asleep from sheer weariness. She prattled and hummed little tunes, only a few of the words of which she could remember. She followed Eliza wherever the woman went, and crawled into her lap and cuddled close to her the instant she seated

t find out what her name is," concluded Miss Eliza. She set about to find the real name. The monogram E. L. on the pin

ll Adee c

t her interlocutor until

ced each name slowly, watching if it might awaken any show of memory. But it did

pitty name. Baby-'I

some adoring fathers and mothers. Perhaps the child had seldom heard her correct name. Guided by

. Elizabeth will do as well an anything else. It's dignified enough for her when she's grow

lled her. Adee was the only title that the chil

hat it would be so. A child is a great responsibility, and the woman had no desire to take it upon herself.

den stocks. The scarlet sages glowed from every shaded nook. There was braggadocio in every clump and cluster as though every flower being in flower-land was procl

ild not to step upon them or to pluck them ruthlessly. She picked her steps. Her fin

e he went tearin

y removing with the aid of a kitchen fork the sprouts

liza retraced her steps to the east side of the house where she had last seen the child. Th

oing, Beth? Not hur

ips to each purple-yellow face, and talking with them as though they were real live babies. Eliza had nothing to sa

cene. He had come over to borrow a hatchet and some nails. A board had come o

not sentiment is what is needed in this world. She'll be for settin' out flowers an' lettin' cabbage go. I declare to

n paid a great compliment. Sam sniffed, "I've come over to get the lend of your hatchet and s

each morning with the reflection, "Her own k

likely they'll come this week. The weather is s

w fearful that they would come. Her anxious eyes followed every strange vehic

er-Beth and me. 'Hain't likely t

r longings and kept