"Friends," cried the white woman, raising her voice in a last effort, "will you allow that man to turn from me your hearts? Have you not known me long enough to believe that though I cannot explain to you how the baby came to be in my room, yet I am innocent of having brought it there. A Tae"—addressing the mother—"can you believe that I would harm one hair of your baby's head?"
A Tae hesitated, her eyes full of tears. She had loved the teacher, but Wang Hom Hing had sown a poisonous seed in her superstitious mind. Miss McLeod noted her hesitation with a sinking of the heart that was almost despair.
Up hobbled a very old and very tiny woman.
"McLeod, Jean," she cried, "your gracious and noble qualities of mind and soul merit a happier New Year's Day than this. Wang Hom Hing's words cannot deceive old Sien Tau."
Ah! The Scotch woman grasped gratefully the old Chinese woman's hand. She could not speak for the tickle in her throat.
Then spake A Tae: "Teacher, forgive me," besought she.
And the teacher smiled her answer.
A number of men and women came forward, looked into the teacher's face, thanked her for
