You
told me that yourself. The child'll have to go to an asylum. It's a good
thing that husband of hers is dead. If he wasn't, you'd have some cause
to be worried."
"Jeff," said Charlotte, pleadingly, "you must let me do what I think is
right. I couldn't sleep, thinking of little Ellen to-night. Besides,
when Annie was worrying about her Thursday, I as much as promised we'd
see that no harm came to the baby."
Jeff relaxed his hold. "I never saw such a girl!" he grumbled. "As if
you hadn't things enough on your shoulders already, without adopting
other people's kids!"
* * * * *
Dr. Andrew Churchill opened the door which led from the room of one of
his patients into the small, slenderly furnished living-room of the tiny
house which had been her home. It was her home no longer. Doctor
Churchill had just lost his first patient in private practice.
In the room were several women, gathered about a baby not yet two years
old. Over the child a subdued but excited discussion was being held, as
to who should take home and, for the present, care for poor Annie
Donohue's orphan baby.
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