"A girl in the hospital read in a paper about an old lady who had no children and who took a baby left on her doorstep, and so I left mine, thinking that if she saw her once, she is so pretty that she'd have to love her, and she'd have a chance to grow up like other girls. And I'd 'a' gone to work feeling that my baby had a home which I knowed I couldn't give her."
"But why didn't you go to some of the homes that are open to girls like you?"
"Homes? I didn't know of any."
"There are many institutions that would have helped you. Didn't any one tell you about them?"
"No; I wouldn't talk much with people. I was afraid that they'd send word to Mother, and I didn't want her to know and feel bad, so I didn't talk about myself. It's been awful hard—" and the babyish lips began to tremble.
"Do you want to keep the baby?"
The girl's face brightened.
"Do I want to—do I want to—But I can't! They tell me there's no place for a girl with a baby."
"Will you work?"
"Oh, Judge," and she drew the baby closer to her, "jest give me a chance! I'll work my fingers off for her. She's all I've got now, and—I'm—I'm—so lonely."