The Argosy — page 243: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 My Saturdays. happen to know that it would have been quite a pleasure to her dear aunt to see her become a Sister of Charity, or something of the sort: but she never would take the least interest in the poor.” ‘She didn’t care about being charitable to order, I suppose,” snapped Lady Jacobs, who was always in a chronic state of polite hostilities with Mrs. Minton. ‘‘ My dear”—to me—*‘TI shall take myself off. I expect you will want to see what your enthusiast is doing with her waif.” This broad hint was soon taken by the rest of the company, and it was not very long before I was able to go and see how matters were progressing in the kitchen. As I entered, I suddenly re- membered the scene of that day week, and the half-mad woman pacing up and down with gleaming eyes, exulting in some wild witch-like vengeance that she had helped to execute. Now she sat on a low chair, a little back from the fire, wrapped in a soft blue dressing-gown, and in her arms lay her foundling fast asleep. A half-emptied basin of bread-and-milk stood near; the poor little thing had not been able to eat much; but now his sleep was so profound that Susan’s movements as she went to and fro about her work, every now and then casting a friendly glance at the little stranger—did not disturb him. Lena looked up at me with such a different expression in her dark eyes! I had not known that they could look soft and loving. ‘Isn’t he a dear little fellow?” she said in a low voice. Now that he was clean and comfortable, one could see some traces of childish prettiness, and there was something touching in the small pale face. I was able to assent. “He is like my little Joso,” she murmured, looking down at him again fondly. I stood watching them, and presently the ehild woke. He opened his eyes, and lay taking in his surroundings. ‘Are you warm now, dear?” asked Lena. Yes,” he said, decidedly. ‘‘ Who are you?” Lena hesitated. ‘‘ You may call me Sister,” she said. ‘Sisters took care of me when my leg was bad. Sister Lucy was jolly: she always gave me lollipops when the doctors came; but Sister Jane said she mustn’t. Will you give me some, too?” ‘Yes, dear. Ill get you some to-morrow.” “All right. I like being here. Where’s your cap?” ‘*T haven’t one, but I can take care of you just as well without.” ‘Sisters always had caps,” said the child, doubtfully. ‘‘What’s your name?” ‘* Lena.” ‘Sister Lena, where’s my little bed?” She gathered him up in her arms, and covered him with kisses. Evidently she had in a moment adopted this little waif of the streets, who might have all sorts of embarrassing antecedents and belongings, to fill the place of her lost brother. It would be a happiness to see Gomicbooks.¢o m