Doctor Churchill closed the door behind him and stood for a moment,
looking down at the baby, a pretty little girl with a pair of big
frightened blue eyes.
"Well, I guess I'll have to be the one," said the youngest woman of the
company, with a sigh. "You're all worse fixed than I am, and I guess we
can make room for her somehow, till it's decided what to do with her.
Poor Mis' Donohue's child has got to stay somewhere to-night besides
here, that I do say."
"Well, that's kind of you, Mary, and we'll all lend a hand to help you
out. I'll bring over some extra milk I can spare and----"
A sudden draft of January air made everybody turn. A girlish figure, in
a big dark cape with a scarlet lining which seemed to reflect the colour
from a face brilliant with frost-bloom, stood in the outer door. The
next instant Charlotte Birch, closing the door softly behind her, had
crossed the room and was addressing the women, in low quick tones. The
doctor she did not seem to notice.
"I've come for the baby," she said, with a gentle imperiousness. "I've
just heard about poor Annie.
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