was de good Providence dat guided her--or him, whichever id be."

"Providence be hanged!" snarled Peter. "What was my Providence
doing--landing me with a gutter-brat to look after?"

"So like you Radicals," sneered the doctor, "to despise a fellow
human creature just because id may not have been born in burble and
fine linen."

"I didn't send for you to argue politics," retorted Peter,
controlling his indignation by an effort. "I want you to tell me
whether it's a boy or a girl, so that I may know what to do with
it."

"What mean you to do wid id?" inquired the doctor.

"I don't know," confessed Peter. "If it's a boy, as I rather think
it is, maybe I'll be able to find it a place in one of the offices-
-after I've taught it a little civilisation."

"And if id be a girl?"

"How can it be a girl when it wears trousers?" demanded Peter.
"Why anticipate difficulties?"

Peter, alone, paced to and fro the room, his hands behind his back,
his ear on the alert to catch the slightest sound from above.

"I do hope it is a boy," said Peter, glancing up.