He nodded acquiescence; and turning to the mother, said that he and his wife would like to adopt the child and bring it up as their own; that they would do so if she would at once give it up entirely to them.
A look of mingled grief and terror came over her face at the bare suggestion. She clutched her treasure in a death-like grasp.
“No, no! how could I? how could I?” she cried, “my baby! my precious baby! my all! no, no, never, never!”
“Take time to consider,” he said soothingly. “I am sorry to distress you, but, as you have yourself said, your child will soon need another protector, and it is very unlikely that another will be readily found to do as well by her as we would.”
“But wait—wait till I am gone!” she moaned. “She is my all, my all! Oh, ’tis hard to die and leave her! My baby, my baby, your mother’s heart will break!” and the tears fell like rain on the wondering little face upturned to hers.
“Don’t ky, Ethel’s mamma! Ethel love ’oo!” cooed the babe, lifting her dress to wipe away the tears, while with the other arm she clung about her neck, then kissing her wet cheek again and again.
Mrs. Kemper, with great tears of sympathy rolling down her own cheeks, knelt at the wanderer’s side, and, taking one thin hand in hers, said:
“I feel for you, my poor, poor friend! I do indeed. I know a mother’s heart, for I once had a little one like this, and when death snatched her from me I would gladly have gone down into the grave with her, for she was my only one. That was ten years ago. I have never had another, and it is not likely I ever shall; and now when you feel that you must leave this darling, will you not let me have her to fill the vacant place in my heart—in our hearts and home, for my husband will love her dearly too, and be a good father to her?”
“Oh, gladly, when—when I am gone!”