“Can’t say. She wasn’t there,—and then, she was there! That’s all I know. Want her?”
“Certainly not. But what are you going to do with her?”
The stranger seemed to sense a lack of welcome, and putting up a pathetic little red lip, said in tragic tones. “Middy ’ants Muddy.”
“You poor little thing!” cried Patty, catching her up in her arms. “Did your mother put you there?”
“Ess, Muddy frowed Middy in au’mobile. Middy ’ant do home.”
“Where is your home?”
The baby’s face smiled beatifically, but the midget only said “Vere?”
“Don’t you know yourself?” and the baby shook her head.
“It’s clear enough, Patty, somebody has abandoned the little thing. How awful! And such a pretty baby!”
“And beautifully dressed. Look, Nan, see the little white kid shoes, and fine little handkerchief linen frock. And her cap is all hand-embroidered.”