“Well, what else could it be?” said Patty. “There was the baby all alone, smiling and talking to herself, and no one anywhere near, although we waited for some time.”
“It does seem strange,” said Mr. Fairfield, “perhaps the mother did mean to desert the child, but if so, she was probably peeping from some hiding-place, to make sure that she approved of the people who took it.”
“Well,” said Mr. Phelps, “she evidently thought we were all right; at any rate she made no objection.”
“But isn’t it awful,” said Nan, “to think of anybody deserting a dear little thing like this. Why, the wild animals might have eaten her up.”
“Of course they might,” said Mr. Phelps, gravely, “the tigers and wolves that abound on Long Island are of the most ferocious type.”
“Well, anyway,” said Patty, “something dreadful might have happened to her.”
“It may yet,” said Mr. Phelps cheerfully, “when we take her back to-morrow and put her in the place we found her. For I don’t suppose you intend to keep Miss Rosabel, do you?”
“I don’t know,” said Patty, “but I know one thing, we certainly won’t put her back where we found her. What shall we do with her, Papa?”
“I don’t know, my child, she’s your find, and I suppose it’s a case of ‘findings is keepings.’”
“Of course we can’t keep her,” said Patty, “how ridiculous! We’ll have to put her in an orphan asylum or something like that.”