Then she stopped short, lest her quivering voice should betray her terrible anxiety.
"No," returned Mrs. Lester. "I no longer have the little one, bless its poor, dear little heart!"
"Has anything happened to it?" asked Ida, the agony of death in her voice. "Oh, tell me, where is it? Is the little baby dead?"
[CHAPTER LIV.]
It seemed to Ida that it took ages for the woman to reply. She leaned forward breathlessly, fairly devouring her with her dark, dilated eyes.
"Oh, no! the baby did not die," said Mrs. Lester, "although it was a weak, puny little thing.
"I'll just tell you all about it, for I feel just like talking it over with some one.
"The child required so much care that my husband decided we could not keep it, and I was on my way to take it back to the foundling asylum in New York, when the strangest thing happened.