Rose-Marie went on.

“I found the place where he lived,” she said hurriedly.  “Yes—­I know that you wouldn’t have let me go if you’d known about it!  That’s why I didn’t tell you.  I found the place where he lived; an unspeakable tenement on an unspeakable street.  And I met, there, his family—­a most remarkable family!  There was a mother, and an older sister, and an older brother, and a drunken father, and a little crippled girl....”

And then, shaking inwardly, Rose-Marie told the story of the Volskys.  She told it well; better than she realized.  For the Superintendent’s eyes never left her face and—­at certain parts of the story—­the Superintendent’s cheeks grew girlishly pink.  She told of the saving of Ella—­she told of Bennie, explaining that he was the same child whom the Young Doctor had met in the hall.  She told of Mrs. Volsky’s effort to better herself, and of Jim’s snake-like smoothness.  And then she told of Lily—­Lily with her almost unearthly beauty and her piteous physical condition.  As she told of Lily the Superintendent’s kind eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered.

“Oh,” she breathed, “if only something could be done for her—­if only something could be done!  Billy Blanchard must see her at once—­he’s done marvellous things with the crippled children of the neighbourhood!”

With a feeling of sudden confidence Rose-Marie smiled.  She realized that she had caught the Superintendent’s interest—­and her sympathy.  It would be easier, now, to give the family their chance!  Her voice was more calm as she went on with the narrative.  It was only when she told of the death of Pa that her lips trembled.

“You’ll think that I’m hard and callous,” she said, “taking his death so easily.  But I can’t help feeling that it’s for the best.  They could never have broken away—­not with him alive. You would never have taken them in—­if he had had to be included!  You couldn’t have done it....  But now,” her voice was aquiver with eagerness, “now, say that they may come!  Say that Mrs. Volsky may take Katie’s place.  Oh, I know that she isn’t very neat; that she doesn’t cook as we would want her to.  But she can learn and, free from the influence of her husband and son, I’m sure she’ll change amazingly.  Say that you’ll give the family a chance!”

The Superintendent was wavering.  “I’m not so sure,” she began, and hesitated.  “I’m not so sure—­”

Rose-Marie interrupted.  Her voice was very soft.

“It will mean,” she said, “that Lily will be here, under the doctor’s care.  It will mean that she will get well—­perhaps!  For her sake give them a chance....”

The Superintendent’s eyes were fixed upon space.  When she spoke, she spoke irrelevantly.

“Then,” she said, “that was where you went every afternoon—­to the tenement.  You weren’t out with some man, after all?”