ve me? When my
darling child was a baby, I wanted bread. My husband died just when
she was eighteen months old; I had not a shilling in the world; there
was only the workhouse before me, and I could not--no, I could not take
my precious child there. So I walked here from Ipswich. I remembered
you had a kind heart--so I laid her here on your door-step and stood
watching till you came and took her up, and I knew you would be good to
her; but I dared not face my mother. I wandered alone all that night;
and early in the morning, before any one was stirring, I came to look
up at this house. As I stood listening, I heard my baby's little
cough. Some one was crooning over her and playing with her."

"That was Susan. Hi, Sue! come this way," exclaimed Mr. Boyd.

Susan came blundering down the stairs, asking--

"What do you want? I was just giving the precious child her breakfast.
She seems a bit brighter this morning."

"What is the matter with her?" Maggie Chanter asked. "Is she ill? is
she ill?"

"She was knocked down by a runaway horse last June, and hurt her back.
What do you know about the child?"

"I am her mother?" was the answer. "Oh! I thank you all for being
kind to her." And then a burst of passionate tears choked the poor
mother.

Patience Harrison's kind arms were round her in a moment.

"My dear," she said, "God is very good to us. Do not fret; you trusted
this little one to His care, and He has not forgotten you. Little Miss
Joy is loved by every one; she is the sweetest and best of little
darlings."

"Ah! I am so afraid she may not love me," the poor mother said. "She
may think I was cruel to desert her; but what could I do? I knew Mr.
Boyd had a kind heart; but many, oh! many a time I have repented of
what I did. As I wandered back to the quay that morning I saw a new
registry office I had never seen before. I waited till it was open,
and went in. A man-servant was waiting with me, and he went into the
manager's room first. Presently the manager came out.

"'What place do you want?' she asked,

"'Any place,' I replied. 'A maid----'

"'I think she'll do,' the man said.

"Then he told me his young mistress was married a month before, and was
to sail from London Docks that night for India. The maid who was to
have attended her was sickening of scarlet fever; the lady was at her
wits' end; she was staying at Lord Simon's, near Yarmouth. 'Come out,'
he said, 'and see her at