ma'am, or a person to take care of the child at her own home?"
"I mean someone who would take a baby to live with her, and show it every kindness."
"That's not so easy to get, ma'am, and I can't say as I do know anyone I could recommend." Then, with a sharp glance, "May I arsk if the child is your own?"
"Oh dear, no!" cried Miss Prudence hastily. "It is my sister."
"Your sister's—a—And is your sister dead?"
"Dead! of course not. Why should I want a home for her if she were?"
"Beg pardon, ma'am, I didn't understand you wanted a home for the lady too, I thought as you said only for the baby."
"It is only for the baby," replied Prudence in confusion. "The baby is my sister."
"Your sister?" repeated the woman, surprised. "Your sister a baby?"
"Yes," answered Prudence, rather nettled. "My sister is a baby, there is nothing so wonderful in that I hope."
The woman looked as if she would like to ask some further questions, but checked herself and said,
"Oh, of course not. It's none of my
