b'y."

As she spoke, she took from Teddy's arms the little lifeless form,
with its pale, still face, and laid it gently upon her own bed.

"Oh thin! an' it's a shame to see the party darlint lay like that
and I'm 'feared, unless the breath's in her yet, she's dead
intirely," muttered the good woman, rubbing the little hands in her
own, and gently feeling for the beating of the heart.

"Maybe it's only the cold and the hunger that's ailing her, and
she'll come to with the fire and vittels. She can have my supper and
my breakfast too, and a welcome with it," said Teddy eagerly.

"The cowld, maybe, it is; for her clothes is nixt to nothing, an'
the flesh of her's like a stone wid the freezing: but she's got
enough to ate, or she never'd be so round an' plump. It's like she's
the child of some beggar-woman that's fed her on broken vittels,
an', whin she got tired ov trampin' wid her, jist dropped her on the
doorstep where yees got her.--Howly mother! what's this?"

Mrs. Ginniss, as she spoke, had taken the little lifeless form upon
her lap close to the stove, and was undressing it, when, among the
folds of the old shawl crossed over the bosom, she found a bracelet
of coral cameos, set in gold, and fastened with a handsome clasp.

She held it up, stared at it a moment, and then looked anxiously at
Teddy.

"An' where did this splindid armlit come from, Teddy Ginniss?" asked