losing him. Strangely enough until the
present moment she had escaped great crises with her children. She was
well schooled in the ways of whooping cough, measles, and chicken pox
and could do up a cut finger with almost professional skill; but in the
face of crucial illness she was like a warrior without weapons.

Overwhelmed with terror, therefore, by the immediate calamity, she did
in benumbed fashion everything the doctor directed and still Joey was
no better; if anything he grew steadily worse. Motionless he lay in his
crib, his great staring eyes giving forth no flicker of recognition.
There was not much hope, the neighbors whispered, after they had
tiptoed in to look at him and tiptoed out again. He was as good as
gone. Julie could never save him in the world.

The whispers, humanely muffled, did not reach the panic-stricken mother
but she was not blind to the despairing head-shaking and these suddenly
awakened her to the realization that according to general opinion the
battle she was waging was a losing one. It was a terrible discovery.
What should she do? She must do something. Wild-eyed she plunged into
the hall, a vague impulse to seek help moving her; and it was just as
she paused irresolute at the head of the stairs that she came face to
face with Mrs. McGregor ascending to her fifth-floor flat.

Now Mrs. McGregor was a born nurse, whose skill had been increased by
constant practice. With a wisdom that amounted almost to genius she had
brought her large family through many an appalling conflict and emerged
victorious. Sickness, therefore, had no terrors for her. Instantly the
mother in her read and interpreted the desperation in Julie's face and
without a word she slipped through the open door into the room where
Joey lay. One glance of her experienced eye showed that there was
plenty to be done. The interior was close and untidy, for Mrs. O'Dowd
in her distraction had cast aside every consideration but her baby.

Mrs. McGregor stooped down over the crib.

What she saw there or did not see she at least kept to herself, and
when she straightened up it was to meet the searching gaze of her
neighbor with a grave smile.

"He's going to die," moaned Julie, wringing her hands. "He is going to
die--my baby--and I can't help it!"

Although for a long time the two women had lived beneath the same roof,
these were the first words Mrs. O'Dowd had ever addressed to Mrs.
McGregor.

"Might I touch him?" the la