"You eat your supper now, and I'll tell Rosa to come home. That's one
thing she'll have to quit, a-wastin' so much time. What she sees in
grandpa is more'n I can tell, fer he ain't got a bit of sense. Often in
the night he wakes me up a-hollerin' and a-carryin' on a-thinkin' he's a
boy ag'in. There's not many as patient as I am, or they wouldn't put up
with it."

Every word was a knife thrust through the sensitive, bleeding heart of
the distracted mother.

"Oh," she thought, "that some one in this great, crowded city might love
my darling, and that she need not fall into the hands of this woman!

"Mrs. Gray," she asked excitedly, and with an effort controlling the
great dry sobs which were choking her, "won't you promise me one thing?
Won't you keep Rosa at least till spring? What can my baby do without a
home and without a mother, especially when the weather is so bitterly
cold? The mere thought of such a possibility drives me insane with fear
and grief. She can run errands for you, and grandpa loves her so. Do not
deny me, for I am almost dead!"

Mrs. Gray half staggered backward, for never before had she heard Mrs.
Browning speak with such intensity. The dark eyes riveted upon her
conquered even this unfeeling heart, and before realizing the import of
her words, granted the request. "But," she added in the same breath,
"there ain't many that'd do it, I can tell you that."

"And be gentle with her, Mrs. Gray. She is so affectionate, she will
miss her mother and the love I have always bestowed upon her."