tting upright, with incipient anxiety struggling for
expression on a countenance still placid with sleep.

Having passionately celebrated her reunion with her offspring, and
excused herself in cryptic language for the lateness of her return,
Nettie restored the baby to the crib and shyly invited Miss Bart to the
rocking-chair near the stove.

"We've got a parlour too," she explained with pardonable pride; "but I
guess it's warmer in here, and I don't want to leave you alone while I'm
getting baby's supper."

On receiving Lily's assurance that she much preferred the friendly
proximity of the kitchen fire, Mrs. Struther proceeded to prepare a
bottle of infantile food, which she tenderly applied to the baby's
impatient lips; and while the ensuing degustation went on, she seated
herself with a beaming countenance beside her visitor.

"You're sure you won't let me warm up a drop of coffee for you, Miss
Bart? There's some of baby's fresh milk left over--well, maybe you'd
rather just sit quiet and rest a little while. It's too lovely having you
here. I've thought of it so often that I can't believe it's really come
true. I've said to George again and again: 'I just wish Miss Bart could
see me NOW--' and I used to watch for your name in the papers, and we'd
talk over what you were doing, and read the descriptions of the dresses
you wore. I haven't seen your name for a long time, though, and I began
to be afraid you were sick, and it worried me so that George said I'd get
sick myself, fretting about it." Her lips broke into a reminiscent smile.
"Well, I can't afford to be sick again, that's a fact: the last spell
nearly finished me. When you sent me off that time I never thought I'd
come back alive, and I didn't much care if I did. You see I didn't know
about George and the baby then."

She paused to readjust the bottle to the child's bubbling mouth.

"You precious--don't you be in too much of a hurry! Was it mad with
mommer for getting its supper so late? Marry Anto'nette--that's what we
call her: after the French queen in that play at the Garden--I told
George the actress reminded me of you, and that made me fancy the
name . . . I never thought I'd get married, you know, and I'd never have
had the heart to go on working just for myself."

She broke off again, and meeting the encouragement in Lily's eyes, went
on, with a flush rising under her anaemic skin: "You see I wasn't only
just SICK that time you sent me off--I wa