gure of the Very Young
Wife next door staggered into the room. She seized Blanche Devine's arm
with both her frenzied hands and shook her, the wind and snow beating in
upon both of them.

"The baby!" she screamed in a high, hysterical voice. "The baby! The
baby--"

Blanche Devine shut the door and shook the Young Wife smartly by the
shoulders.

"Stop screaming," she said quietly. "Is she sick?"

The Young Wife told her, her teeth chattering:

"Come quick! She's dying! Will's out of town. I tried to get the doctor.
The telephone wouldn't--I saw your light! For God's sake--"

Blanche Devine grasped the Young Wife's arm, opened the door, and
together they sped across the little space that separated the two
houses. Blanche Devine was a big woman, but she took the stairs like a
girl and found the right bedroom by some miraculous woman instinct. A
dreadful choking, rattling sound was coming from Snooky's bed.

"Croup," said Blanche Devine, and began her fight.

It was a good fight. She marshalled her little inadequate forces, made
up of the half-fainting Young Wife and the terrified and awkward hired
girl.

"Get the hot water on--lots of it!" Blanche Devine pinned up her
sleeves. "Hot cloths! Tear up a sheet--or anything! Got an oilstove? I
want a teakettle boiling in the room. She's got to have the steam. If
that don't do it we'll raise an umbrella over her and throw a sheet
over, and hold the kettle under till the steam gets to her that way. Got
any ipecac?"

The Young Wife obeyed orders, whitefaced and shaking. Once Blanche
Devine glanced up at her sharply.

"Don't you dare faint!" she commanded.

And the fight went on. Gradually the breathing that had been so
frightful became softer, easier. Blanche Devine did not relax. It was
not until the little figure breathed gently in sleep that Blanche Devine
sat back satisfied. Then she tucked a cover ever so gently at the side
of the bed, took a last satisfied look at the face on the pillow, and
turned to look at the wan, dishevelled Young Wife.

"She's all right now. We can get the doctor when morning comes--though I
don't know's you'll need him."

The Young Wife came round to Blanche Devine's side of the bed and stood
looking up at her.

"My baby died," said Blanche Devine simply. The Young Wife gave a little
inarticulate cry, put her two hands on Blanche Devine's broad shoulders
and laid her tired head on her breast.

"I guess I'd better be going," said B