anded Agnes, quickly.

Dot, the voluble, got ahead of her sister in this explanation. "She
isn't the Salvation Army, nor she isn't a deaconess like Mrs. Mumford
had come to see her; but she's something awfully religious, I know."

Tess managed to tell again about the sovereigns of England, too.

"Oh, I know whom you mean," Agnes said briskly. "I saw her with you up
on the Parade. Eva Larry told me she was the matron of the Women's and
Children's Hospital--and they're going to shut it up."

"The child means Mrs. Eland," said Mrs. MacCall, interestedly. "She is a
splendid woman and that hospital is doing a great work. You don't mean
they are really going to close it, Agnes?"

"So Eva says. They have to. There are no funds, and two or three rich
people who used to help them every year have died without leaving the
hospital any legacy. Mrs. Eland doesn't know what will become of her
now. She's been matron and acting superintendent ever since the hospital
was opened, five years ago. Dr. Forsyth is the head visiting physician."

"Mercy, child!" gasped Ruth. "Where _do_ you pick up so much gossip?"

"Eva Larry has been here," said Tess, soberly. "And, you know, she's a
fluid talker. You said so yourself, Ruthie."

"Fluent! fluent!" gasped Agnes. "And Eva always does have the news."

"She is growing up to be a second Miss Ann Titus," said Ruth drily. "And
I think Tess got it about right. She _is_ a fluid speaker. When Eva
talks it is just like opening the spigot and letting the water run."

It was later, after lunch was over, and Tess and Dot had wandered into
the garden with their dolls. Tess said, reflectively:

"I wish awfully we might help that Mrs. Eland. She's such a lovely lady.
And I know the sovereigns of England half by heart already."

Dot was usually practical. "Let's gather her some apples and take them
to her," she suggested.

"We-ell," said Tess, slowly. "That won't keep the hospital going, but
maybe she likes apples."

"Who doesn't?" demanded Dot, stoutly. "Come on."

When they reached the fall pippin tree which, that year, was loaded with
golden fruit, the two little girls were quite startled at what they saw.

"O-o-oh!" gasped Dot. "See Billy Bumps!"

"For pity's sake! what's he doing?" rejoined Tess, in amazement.

The old goat had the freedom of the yard, as the garden was shut away
from him by a strong wire fence. He liked apples himself, did Billy
Bumps, and perhaps he considered the bag