Willie the Waif

by Minie Herbert

"No, dear," was the answer, "I cannot say that it has. I have often thought him very superior to the other children, and he is not in the least like his brother Bob."

"Well, Nora Graham called my attention to the fact this afternoon, and it has haunted me ever since. Do you think, Arthur, it could be by any chance? Little Bertram would have been just about his age now," wistfully.

"My dear Winnie," returned her brother, "I should not allow myself to raise any such hopes on that point if I were you. You have been disappointed so often."

"Still," she persisted, "there is just a chance, and we dare not leave a single stone unturned to find poor Marion's boy."

"No," he replied, "but we have so little to go upon. It is four years now since Marion died, and the only clue we could have at all is that tiny mark upon the shoulder."

"Well," she said, "if I go and see the child and find out what I can from him, will you go to Primrose Place and see if you can trace anything of his parents?"

"Certainly I will," was the answer. "You know, dear, I am as anxious to find the child as you are. It maddens one to think of the little chap being brought up in one of those filthy alleys. I don't wonder it killed his mother."

"No, indeed," said Miss Elton, her eyes filled with tears. "Poor Marion!"

Some years before our story opens Miss Elton's only sister had married an artist living in a pretty village in Surrey, and there about a year afterwards their little boy Bertram was born. His parents idolized him, and he was the pet and plaything of every one who had anything to do with him. When he was just about one year old, his mother, Mrs. Vincent, had in her service a housemaid who had a violent temper. It happened that one day Mrs. Vincent had occasion to reprove her for some fault, and the girl was heard to declare that she would "pay her out for it." Soon after Mr. and Mrs. Vincent went to spend a day with some friends living at a distance, leaving little Bertram in charge of his nurse, thinking her a woman they could trust. Great was their dismay, however, when they returned to find both Bertram and Ellen, the housemaid, missing. The nurse seemed to be almost beside herself with terror, and they could get very little information from her. She said that Ellen had offered to mind the baby while she went to dress. She missed them when she came down, but thinking that they were somewhere about the grounds, she took no notice but went on with some work in the nursery. When tea was ready she went out to look for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Feeling thoroughly frightened, she called the cook, and together they searched the house and grounds, but no trace of Ellen or the baby could be found. Poor Mrs. Vincent was almost out of her mind with grief when she realized that her darling baby was lost. The father haunted the police stations and hospitals longing for news of the boy. But it was all in vain, little Bertram had completely disappeared. Mr. and Mrs. Vincent never saw their child again; a month or two afterwards the father was thrown from a trap and killed, and when Gladys was born soon after, the poor mother could not recover the shock and she followed her husband. On her death-bed she made her brother and sister promise that they would look after Gladys, and also do all in their power to find Bertram.

Faithfully these two kept their word. Aunt Winnie had been a good mother to little Gladys, and in the hope that they might some day come across the little boy, they had started their mission among the waifs of London. So far, however, it had been all in vain. Sometimes they fancied they had a clue, but it always led to nothing, and they had almost begun to think the task hopeless, when Miss Elton's attention was directed to Willie Brown.