that I could hear him growlin’ cuss words under his breath the whole way.  We took her and this great doll down to the station, and we found out there who she was most likely, and who she belonged to.  And my cousin’s husband said I’d got to take her out here.  He looked it up and found out I could git back to New York to-night.  He said he wouldn’t come nohow.”  Suddenly a light flashed on the woman.  “Say,” she said, “you don’t mean to say you’ve been on the train yourself all the way out from New York?”

“Yes, I came out on the train,” admitted Harry, meekly.  “I am sorry—­”

“Well, you’d better be,” said the woman.  “Here I’ve traipsed out here for nothin’ this time of night.  I call you all a set of numskulls.  I don’t call the young one very bright, either.  Couldn’t tell where she lived, nor what her father’s name was.  Jest said it was papa, and her name was peshious, or some such tomfoolery.  I advise you to tag her if she is in the habit of runnin’ away.  Here I ought to have been up in Tarrytown, and I’ve been foolin’ round in New York all day with your young one and this big doll.”  With that the stout woman thrust the doll at Maria.  “Here, take this thing,” said she.  “I’ve had enough of it!  There ain’t any sense in lettin’ a child of her size lug around a doll as big as that, anyhow.  When does my train come?  Hev I got to cross to the other side?  My cousin’s husband said it would be about twenty minutes I’d have to wait.”

“I’ll take you round to the other side, and I cannot be grateful enough for your care,” began Harry, but the woman stopped him again.

“I suppose you’ll be willin’ to pay my fare back to New York; that’s all I want,” said she.  “I don’t want no thanks.  I ’ain’t no use for children, but I ain’t a heathen.”

“I’ll be glad to give you a great deal more than your fare to New York,” Harry said, in a broken voice.  Evelyn was already fast asleep on his shoulder.  He led the way down the stairs towards the other track.

“I don’t want nothin’ else, except five cents for my car-fare.  I can get a transfer, and it won’t be more’n that,” said the woman, following.  “I’ve got enough to git along with, and I ain’t a heathen.”

Harry, with Evelyn asleep in his arms, and Maria and Gladys, waited with the stout woman until the train came.  The station was closed, and the woman sat down on a bench outside and immediately fell asleep herself.

When the train came, Harry thrust a bank-note into the woman’s hand, having roused her with considerable difficulty, and she stumbled on to the train over her skirts just as she had done in the morning.

Harry knew the conductor.  “Look out for that woman,” he called out to him.  “She found my little girl that was lost.”

The conductor nodded affably as the train rolled out.

Wollaston Lee had gone home when the others descended the stairs and crossed to the other track.  When Harry, with Evelyn in his arms, her limp little legs dangling, and Maria and Gladys, were on their way home, the question, which he in his confusion had not thought to put before, came.