the Angel in me
colleen's arms an' the Angel looks at her; an', whisht! afore you could
wink, out flies the knowin' baby from the one to the other! An' then,
bless us! The time there was! An' you could hear a pin drop, an' in a
minute you couldn't, along of them questions an' answers, firing around,
from one person to another, hit-or-miss-like, an' all talkin' to onct,
or sayin' never a word, any one. An' so this is the trouble, Mary
Fogarty, that Dennis wouldn't mention. The Angel is their own child, and
Dennis Fogarty's the clever chap suspicioned it himself."

"Huh! Now you're fairy-talein', indeed. 'Tis old bachelor and old maid
the pair of them is. I know that much if I don't know more," returned
the house-mistress, reprovingly.

Timothy was undisturbed and ignored her reproof, as he went on with his
story:

"Their child was left for them to care for. The only child of their
nevvy an' niece, who's over seas at the minute, a takin' a vacation,
with hearts broke because of word comin' the baby was lost. Lost she was
the very day them Bonnicastles set for leaving the city house an' comin'
to Broadacres; an' intrustin' the little creatur' by the care of a
nursemaid--bad luck to her--to be took across the big bridge, over to
that Brooklyn where did reside a friend of the whole family with whom
the baby would be safe till called for; meanin' such time as them
Bonnicastles had done with the movin' business an' could take care of it
theirselves, proper. Little dreamin' they, poor souls, how that that
same nursemaid would stop to chatter with a friend of her own, right at
the bridge-end and leave the child out of her arms just for the minute,
who, set on the ground by herself, runs off in high glee an' no more to
that story, till she finds herself in the 'littlest house,' where me
colleen lived; an' what come after ye know. But ye don't know how the
nursemaid went near daft with the fear, and wasted good days a searchin'
an' searchin' on her own account; the Bonnicastles' friend-lady over in
Brooklyn not expecting no such visit an' not knowin' aught; 'cause the
maid carried the note sayin' so in her own pocket. All them rich folks
bein' so intimate-like, preparin' 'em wasn't needful. And then, when the
truth out, all the police in the city set to the hunt, and word sent
across the ocean to the ravin'-distracted young parents, an'--now, all's
right! Such joy, such thanksgivin', such cryin' an' laughin'--bless us!
I could