"I want to git that five dollars off my mind and start it movin'," she said grimly when Charlotte looked at her in wonder. "No, there ain't no use of your refusing. That baby needs it as much as any one I know just now, and that was the idea, you know, that I should pass it on."
Charlotte realized that she couldn't refuse without hurting Melina's feelings. "All right," she said, "I'll take it for her, and when she gets old enough to understand it I'll explain that she must start it on again."
For a while it seemed almost as though little Elsa might be hurt by too much care. The six young mothers made all sorts of errands into Mrs. Hall's that they might have a chance to play with the baby, who seemed to love them all with great impartiality. Ruth and Dorothy almost quarreled one afternoon because each claimed the privilege of taking her out and neither one was willing to give up. Just as it threatened to become serious, Betty, who had come in a few minutes later, slipped off with the baby while the other two were arguing. She did it so cleverly that when they discovered her treachery they made common cause against her, and went amiably home together vowing vengeance upon Miss Betty for her slyness.
By the end of three weeks the novelty had worn off a little and the girls no longer struggled to be first in the baby's affections, but were frequently willing to omit going to see her for a day or two. And just then, when the mothers were beginning to smile and shake their heads over the situation, something happened which again made little Miss Elsa the centre of interest.
Mrs. Schmidt, prowling around the blackened ruins of her former home, came upon a metal box, locked and little harmed by the flames, which she remembered as belonging to the baby's mother. In great excitement she took it to Mrs. Hamilton and that evening the girls were called in solemn conclave to see the box opened.
First, Mr. Hamilton took out four photographs which were passed from one to another. One pictured a gray-haired man in military clothes, very erect, very stern and fine-looking. Another was of a plump, placid, elderly lady who looked the very picture of motherliness.
"I know that's the baby's grandmother and grandfather," said Dorothy positively, and no one had any other opinion to offer.
Mr. Hamilton uttered an exclamation of surprise as he took the third picture from the paper which enfolded it. "That's the poor little mother," he said softly, and the girls crowded around eagerly to gaze at the pretty, girlish creature looking out at them with hopeful eyes which foreshadowed no hint of her sad fate.
The girls were very sober, and no one broke the silence as Mr. Harnilton unwrapped the remaining picture. It was a young man with a thim, delicate face and large eyes rather sad in their expression. On the back was written in German, "Karl von Winterbach, to his beloved wife."
"He looks like the picture of some German poet," murmured Charlotte thoughtfully.