"I wish you had said no, mother. I hate to let her be with that
fellow, anyway. I'd have taken her to walk myself, if I was twice as
tired. How long have they been gone?"

And Teddy, in his turn, looked anxiously out at the window, but saw
nothing more than the squalid street weltering in the last rays of
the August sun; a knot of children fighting in the gutter over the
body of a dead cat; an old-clothes man sauntering wearily along the
pavement, and a dog, with lolling tongue and blood-shot eyes,
following close at his heels.

"How long have they been out? asked Teddy again, as he drew in his
head, and looked full at his mother, whose confusion struck him with
a sudden dismay.

"O mother!" cried he, "what is it? There's more than you're telling
me amiss. How long is she gone?"

"Sure an' I didn't mind the clock whin they wint," said Mrs.
Ginniss, still struggling to avoid the shock she felt approaching.

"No, no; but you can tell! O mother! do speak out, for the love of
God! I can see how scared you are, though you won't say it. Tell me
right out all there is to tell."

"An' it's no great there is to till, Teddy darlint; on'y this
mornin', whin I was sint for to Ann Dolan (an' she that bad it's
dead we thought she wor one spell, but for Docther Wintworth),
Jovarny kim up, an' axed might the child go for a walk to the