f you'd consider a woman with a
family to take Katie's place? The family isn't large--just a small boy
who goes to school, and a small girl, and an older girl who is working.
There's a grown son, but he can take care of himself..." the last she
said almost under her breath. "He can take care of himself. It would be
better, for them--"

The Superintendent was eyeing Rose-Marie curiously.

"We have plenty of sleeping-rooms on the top floor," she said slowly,
"and I suppose that the older girl could help a bit, evenings. Why, yes,
perhaps a family might solve the problem--it's easier to keep a woman
with children than one who is," she laughed, "heart-whole and fancy free!
Who are they, dear, and how do you happen to know of them?"

Rose-Marie sat down, suddenly, in a chair beside the Superintendent's
desk. All at once her knees were shaky--all at once she felt strangely
apprehensive.

"Once," she began, and her voice quivered slightly, "I met a little boy,
in the park. He was hurting a kitten. I started to scold him and then
something made me question him, instead. And I found out that he was
hurting the kitten because he didn't know any better--think of it,
_because he didn't know any better_! And so I was interested, ever so
interested. And I decided it was my duty to know something of him--to
find out what sort of an environment was responsible for him."

The Superintendent's tired face was alight She leaned forward to ask
a question.

"How long ago," she questioned, "did you meet this child, in the park?"

Rose-Marie flushed. The time, suddenly, seemed very long to her.

"It was the day that I came home bringing a little gray cat with me," she
said. "It was the day that I quarreled with Dr. Blanchard at the luncheon
table. Do you remember?"

The Superintendent smiled reminiscently. "Ah, yes, I remember!" she
said. And then--"Go on with the story, dear."

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 Sup