Thinking that other promises still more difficult to fulfill might be
exacted, Mrs. Gray hastily left the room.

"Thank God," the mother murmured falling back upon her pillow, "my baby
will have food and shelter at least till spring, but how she will miss
the love!"

The hot tears began coursing down the flushed cheeks, causing Rosa to
give a cry of alarm as she stepped up to the bedside.

"Mother dear, do you feel worse? Why do you cry?"

"My darling, mother is tired now and cannot talk. Pull the little table
up by the bed, then if I can eat some supper, we shall talk afterward.
There is something I want to tell you."

Mechanically she obeyed, weighted beneath the feeling that something
dreadful was about to happen. The trembling of the tiny hands and
twitching of the delicate face betrayed a heart suffering which a child
of her tender years should never know.

The odor of the steak, while being broiled, had given Rosa an appetite,
for her dinner had consisted only of boiled potatoes. Now, however, that
mother apparently did not relish her supper, it seemed that every
mouthful would choke her.

With a feeling of relief, the supper things at last were cleared away,
and Rosa sat down by the sufferer, taking her hot thin hand within her
own.