at Von Rosen's under the care of Mrs. Bestwick, and Jane Riggs, but
when it was a month old, the doctor persuaded his wife to go over and
see it. Maria Sturtevant gazed at the tiny scrap of humanity curled
up in Jane Riggs' darning basket, the old-young face creased as
softly as a rosebud, with none of its beauty, but with a compelling
charm. She watched the weak motion of the infinitesimal legs and arms
beneath the soft smother of wrappings, and her heart pained her with
longing, but she remained firm.

"It is no use, Edward," she said, when they had returned to Von
Rosen's study. "I can't make up my mind to adopt a baby coming from
such queer people." Then she was confronted by a stare of blank
astonishment from Von Rosen, and also from Jane Riggs.

Jane Riggs spoke with open hostility. "I don't know that anybody has
asked anybody to adopt our baby," said she.

Von Rosen laughed, but he also blushed. He spoke rather stammeringly.
"Well, Sturtevant," said he, "the fact is, Jane and I have talked it
over, and she thinks she can manage, and he seems a bright little
chap, and--I have about made up my mind to keep him myself."

"He is going to be baptised as soon as he is big enough to be taken
out of my darning basket," said Jane Riggs with defiance, but Mrs.
Sturtevant regarded her with relief.

"I dare say he will be a real comfort to you," she said, "even if he
does come from such queer stock." Her husband looked at Von Rosen
and whistled under his breath.