told the secret of a sum of money safely in bank, so
sufficient that never again need that grim phantom, the poor-house,
threaten to overshadow the end as it had the beginning of Mary's life.

As for Mrs. O'Malligan,--who had so successfully betrayed the secrets
of her neighbors, she was the most surprised of all to find her own
discovered. For, learning that the O'Malligans' savings toward "a house
of our own over th' river wid a goat an' a bit of a pig-sty," still
lacked a small sum of being sufficient, the Angel had accordingly
completed the amount.

And then the Tenement, weary with the accumulations of pleasure and
surprise, had taken itself home.

No one had been forgotten. Even the sixty little Kindergartens, through
the combined munificence of Mr. Dilke and the Angel, were, according to
the gloomy prophecies of 'Tildy Peggins as she waited upon them at the
feast, "a stuffed to their little stomicks' heverlastin' undoin'." And
Old G. A. R., from the depths of a new arm-chair, tried to solace his
lonely old heart with whiffs of fragrant tobacco from a wonderful new
pipe.

Neither was Joey forgotten in this time of rejoicing, for St. Luke's was
made glad that Christmas Day when the Fourth Regiment endowed a child
cot's "In memory of The Little Major."

Even Rosy O'Brien, whose one act of unfaithfulness had been so terribly
punished, was made happy by the news her little Angelique brought her,
that now since she was freed of her wearing secret, her health would
begin to return. And in time it did, and long after, when her tongue
could again frame its words, she dictated such a letter of contrition
and remorse to Mrs. Breaux, that that gentle heart's last feelings
against her were forgotten. In this letter, too, the poor girl related
the happenings of the afternoon when she left the Hotel.

Allured by the shop windows, she and her charge had stopped so often
that on reaching the river, they learned of the accident which had just
taken place in mid-river. At this, the girl had hurried back and crossed
by the bridge.

On reaching the Tenement finally, and finding her sister's door locked,
and beginning to feel anxious about returning, on the impulse of the
moment, that she might go down the faster, being breathless with the
climb up the steep and broken stairs, she set the tired and sleepy
child down on her shawl in the adjoining room, whose door stood open,
and hurried down to find Mrs. O'Malligan and beg a sc