equire them at your hand, Doctor Radcliffe," replied
Mrs. Dinneford. "Do the best you can for Edith. As for the rest, know
nothing, say nothing. You understand."

Doctor Burt Radcliffe had a large practice among rich and fashionable
people. He had learned to be very considerate of their weaknesses,
peculiarities and moral obliquities. His business was to doctor them
when sick, to humor them when they only thought themselves sick, and to
get the largest possible fees for his, services. A great deal came under
his observation that he did not care to see, and of which he saw as
little as possible. From policy he had learned to be reticent. He held
family secrets enough to make, in the hands of a skillful writer, more
than a dozen romances of the saddest and most exciting character.

Mrs. Dinneford knew him thoroughly, and just how far to trust him. "Know
nothing, say nothing" was a good maxim in the case, and so she divulged
only the fact that the baby was to be cast adrift. His weak remonstrance
might as well not have been spoken, and he knew it.

While this brief interview was in progress, Nurse Bray sat with the baby
on her lap. She had taken the soft little hands into her own; and evil
and cruel though she was, an impulse of tenderness flowed into her heart
from the angels who were present with the innocent child. It grew
lovely in her eyes. Its helplessness stirred in her a latent instinct of
protection. "No no, it must not be," she was saying to herself, when the
door opened and Mrs. Dinneford came back.

Mrs. Bray did not lift her head, but sat looking down at the baby and
toying with its hands.

"Pshaw!" ejaculated Mrs. Dinneford, in angry disgust, as she noticed
this manifestation of interest. "Bundle the thing up and throw into that
basket. Is the woman down stairs?"

"Yes," replied Mrs. Bray as she slowly drew a light blanket over the
baby.

"Very well. Put it in the basket, and let her take it away."

"She is not a good woman," said the nurse, whose heart was failing her
at the last moment.

"She may be the devil for all I care," returned Mrs. Dinneford.

Mrs. Bray did as she was ordered, but with an evident reluctance that
irritated Mrs. Dinneford.

"Go now and bring up the woman," she said, sharply.

The woman was brought. She was past the prime of life, and had an evil
face. You read in it the record of bad passions indulged and the signs
of a cruel nature. She was poorly clad, and her garments