acquainted with 'em, too. Of course I know they
have all they can do without taking on the cares of others. I'm not
blaming them. You yourself can't have much time to spare. Haven't you
other things to do?"

"Of course I have," came with curt honesty from Mrs. McGregor. "I've
six children and they leave me little time for idling. But when I do
take time away from 'em, I plan to take it to some purpose. Just now I
have nothing more important to do than nurse this baby. It's my first
job. So don't be worrying about my work. Luckily it is Saturday and
Mary, Carl, and Timmie will look after the little tots and get the
dinner. I told 'em to when I was there just now. Martin and Nell seldom
give any trouble, and should James Frederick wake up, one of the boys
is to run down and tell me."

Julie placed a hand impulsively on that of the other woman.

"I can never thank you," murmured she brokenly.

"Oh, don't be talking of thanks," Mrs. McGregor interrupted, cutting
her short. "My dosing may do no good and before the day is out you may
be calling me a meddlesome old harridan. Wait and see what happens. I'm
not one that sets much store by thanks, anyhow. After all, what does it
amount to but a string of words? If we can cure the baby it will be all
the thanks I want."

If the sentiment the final phrase so modestly expressed was genuine
Mrs. McGregor at least received the boon she craved, for as if by magic
the baby began to mend that very night and before the week passed was
out of danger and on the high road to recovery. Julie's gratitude was
touching to see.

"'Twas Mrs. McGregor saved Joey," declared she to every person she met.
"She's as good as any doctor--better, for Joey might have died but for
her. Should I go through life kneeling to her on my bended knees I
never could thank her enough."

Julie O'Dowd did not go through life, however, kneeling before Mrs.
McGregor on her bended knees; but she did a more practical and
efficacious thing. Everywhere she went she sounded the praise of her
neighbor; talked of her kindness, her wisdom, her unselfishness, until
not only Mulberry Court, but the area adjoining it began to view the
gaunt, austere figure from quite a different angle. Shyly the women
began to nod a greeting to the stranger.

"It's just her way to be curt and quick," explained they to one
another. "She doesn't mean a thing in the world by it. Julie says she's
sharp and prickly as a chestnut burr, but wit