thing with new schemes. She must find Essie Martin and
talk with her. Where was the head nurse? _She_ would know all about the
case. There, Miss Keith had gone to answer someone's bell. Peace clapped
her hands in silent glee, and making sure that the eagle-eyed nurse was
actually out of range, she hurriedly set out to find Miss Gee, knowing
full well that that kindly woman would be able to tell her what she
wanted most to learn.

The next day when Gail appeared, prepared for a storm of passionate
reproaches, Peace pounced upon her with the exclamation, "O, sister,
I've got the most questions to ask and the most things to tell! It's
been ages since I've seen you. I hardly know where to begin,--whether
to tell about Essie first, or--"

"Who is Essie?" laughed Gail, settling herself composedly for the
torrent of prattle that was sure to follow.

"Why, Essie Martin, the little girl which Miss Wayne told me about,--the
one she sent two dolls to. One got burned up, you 'member."

"O, yes. Well, what is the news about her?"

"She is here in the hospital. I met her father yesterday. Her mother
died three months ago, and Essie has been dreadful sick with
_appendage-itis_. It's cut out now, and she is going to get well, but
her father don't want her any more. She is only a girl and it will be
years before she's big enough to keep house. So he means to put her in
an _orphant_ asylum,--_just give her away_, Gail, for someone to adopt!
Isn't it perfectly heathenish?"

"But maybe she will be better off, dear, than she is now," Gail answered
gravely, recalling some of the sad incidents connected with unfortunate
Essie's brief history.

"That's what Miss Keith said when I was telling her about it, but it
seems dreadful for an own father to give away his only little girl. I
couldn't bear to think of her in a 'sylum, Gail, for she is an awful
sweet little thing. I've been in to see her, and she looks lots like our
Allee. So I asked Miss Gee if she didn't s'pose Aunt Pen could make room
for her at Oak Knoll, and we've written to find out. How I'd like to see
Miss Wayne again and tell her that Essie does love her doll and that
her mother didn't want that tobacco. Essie don't want to go there--to
the 'sylum, I mean,--but she doesn't want to go home, either. Don't you
think Oak Knoll would be a nice place for her?"

"Yes, indeed, and I am sure she would like it there, too. If Aunt Pen
can possibly find room for her, she will certain