s were made, and it was ascertained that a girl
answering to the description given had been in the company of a band of
hawkers, but had disappeared and left no trace of her whereabouts. The
baby was not hers, but belonged to a woman who had just been arrested on
a serious charge and taken to Glenbury jail; the hawkers with whom she
had associated disclaimed all responsibility for the child.

"The only thing to be done is to send it to the Union," said the police
sergeant.

But by that time the school in general, and Diana in particular, had
fallen in love with the poor little baby. They raged at the idea of
sending it to the workhouse. They had borrowed clothes for it; and,
nicely bathed and dressed and recovered from its fit of indigestion, it
looked a sweet thing, and was ready to make friends with anybody and
everybody.

"Bless her, she _shan't_ go the workhouse!" declared Diana, kissing the
small fist that clung round her finger.

There was a wild idea among the girls that the foundling might be kept
as a "school baby".

"We're taught gardening, and poultry-keeping, and bee-keeping," said
Wendy quite seriously, "so why not the care of children? We could learn
to bathe her, and mix her bottle, and do heaps of things for her."

Miss Todd, however, thought otherwise. Theoretical hygiene of infants
was all very well as part of the curriculum, but the practical side of
it was disturbing to the school. Miss Chadwick had other duties besides
that of nursing a baby. Rows of plants needed attention, and young
chickens claimed her care.

"If the mother gets a heavy sentence," said Miss Todd, "I think the
child would be received into a 'Home for Destitute Children'. In the
meantime----"

"_Not_ the workhouse!" pleaded Diana. "Isn't there anybody in the
village who'd take her in?"

"Mrs. Jones would have her, but she would charge twelve and sixpence a
week; nobody will take in a baby for less now."

"What's that in dollars? About three, isn't it? Dad will fix that up
easily. I'll write to him to-night. It's as good as settled."

"Diana," said Miss Todd emphatically, "I shall _not_ allow you to write
to your father and ask him for anything more. If you care to give up
your pocket-money for the baby's sake that's another matter; but you're
getting into a bad habit of expecting your father to pay for every whim
that comes into your head. It's cheap charity to suggest something
that's to cost _you_ nothing. You want