ished eyes.

"Adopt it," answered Aggie decisively.

Zoie regarded her friend with mingled disgust and disappointment. "No,"
she said with a sigh and a shake of her head, "that wouldn't do any
good. Alfred's so fussy. He always wants his OWN things around."

"He needn't know," declared Aggie boldly.

"What do you mean?" whispered Zoie.

Drawing herself up with an air of great importance, and regarding the
wondering young person at her knee with smiling condescension, Aggie
prepared to make a most interesting disclosure.

"There was a long article in the paper only this morning," she told
Zoie, "saying that three thousand husbands in this VERY CITY are
fondling babies not their own."

Zoie turned her small head to one side, the better to study Aggie's
face. It was apparent to the latter that she must be much more explicit.

"Babies adopted in their absence," explained Aggie, "while they were on
trips around the country."

A dangerous light began to glitter in Zoie's eyes.

"Aggie!" she cried, bringing her small hands together excitedly, "do you
think I COULD?"

"Why not?" asked Aggie, with a very superior air. Zoie's enthusiasm was
increasing her friend's admiration of her own scheme. "This same paper
tells of a woman who adopted three sons while her husband was in Europe,
and he thinks each one of them is his."

"Where can we get some?" cried Zoie, now thoroughly enamoured of the
idea.

"You can always get TONS of them at the Children's Home," answered Aggie
confidently.

"I can't endure babies," declared Zoie, "but I'd do ANYTHING to get
Alfred back. Can we get one TO-DAY?" she asked.

Aggie looked at her small friend with positive pity. "You don't WANT one
TO-DAY," she explained.

Zoie rolled her large eyes inquiringly.

"If you were to get one to-day," continued Aggie, "Alfred would know it
wasn't yours, wouldn't he?"

A light of understanding began to show on Zoie's small features.

"There was none when he left this morning," added Aggie.

"That's true," acquiesced Zoie.

"You must wait awhile," counselled Aggie, "and then get a perfectly new
one."

But Zoie had never been taught to wait.

"Now Aggie----" she began.

Aggie continued without heeding her.

"After a few months," she explained, "when Alfred's temper has had time
to cool, we'll get Jimmy to send him a wire that he has an heir."

"A few months!" exclaimed Zoie, as though Aggie had suggested an
eternity. "I've never been