Lived where?" said Miss Martha, breathless.

"Upper crust," said the other, defining her symbol still further. "No
middlins to 'em. Genteel as anybody. Just look here!"

Madam Delia unclasped her leather bag, brought forth from it a mass of
checks and tickets, some bird-seed, a small whip, a dog-collar, and a
dingy morocco box. This held a piece of an old-fashioned enamelled
ring, and a fragment of embroidered muslin marked "A."

"She'd lived with me six months before she brought 'em," said the
show-woman, whispering.

The bit of handkerchief was enough. Was it a dream? thought the dear
old lady. What the ocean had refused, was this sprite who had lived
between earth and air to fulfil? Miss Martha bent softly over the
bedside, resting her clean glove on the only dirty mattress it had ever
touched, and quietly kissed the child. Then she looked up with a
radiant face of perfect resolution.

"Mrs. De Marsan," said she, with dignity that was almost solemnity, "I
wish to adopt this child. No one can doubt thy kindness of heart, but
thee must see that thee is in no condition to give her suitable care
and Christian nurture."

"That's a fact," interposed Madam Delia with a pang

"Then thee will give her to me?" asked Miss Martha, firmly.

Madam Delia threw her apron over her face, and choked and sobbed
beneath it for several minutes. Then reappearing, "It's what I've
always expected," said she. Then, with a tinge of suspicion, "Would you
have taken her without the ring and handkerchief?"

"Perhaps I should," said the other, gently. "But that seems to make it
a clearer call."

"Fair enough," said Madam Delia, submitting. "I ain't denyin' of it."
Then she reflected and recommenced. "There never was such a smart
performin' child as that since the world began. She can do just
anythin', and just as easy! Time and again I might have hired her out
to a circus, and she glad of the chance, mind you; but no, I would keep
her safe to home. Then when she showed me the ring and the other
things, all my expectations altered very sudden; I knowed we couldn't
keep her, and I began to mistrust that she would somehow find her
folks. I guess my rathers was that she should, considerin'; but I did
wish it had been Anne, for she ain't got nothin' better in her than
just to live genteel."

"But Anne seems a nice child, too," said Miss Martha, consolingly.

"Well, that's just what she is," replied Madam Delia, with some
contempt. "But w