d her and tucked
her up on the sofa. Then we sent for the doctor, gave our opera tickets
to the head waiter and chambermaid, and settled down to a cheerful home
evening, our first in Ireland.

"If Himself were here, we should not be in this plight," I sighed.

"I don't know how you can say that," responded Salemina, with
considerable spirit. "You know perfectly well that if your husband had
found a mother and seven children helpless and deserted on that dock,
he would have brought them all to this hotel, and then tried to find the
father and grandfather."

"And it's not Salemina's fault," argued Francesca. "She couldn't help
the girl being born in Salem; not that I believe that she ever heard of
the place before she saw it printed on Salemina's trunk. I told you it
was too big and red, dear, but you wouldn't listen! I am the strongest
American of the party, but I confess that U.S.A. in letters five inches
long is too much for my patriotism."

"It would not be if you ever had charge of the luggage," retorted
Salemina.

"And whatever you do, Francesca," I added beseechingly, "don't impugn
the veracity of our Derelict. While we think of ourselves as ministering
angels I can endure anything, but if we are the dupes of an adventuress,
there is nothing pretty about it. By the way, I have consulted the
English manageress of this hotel, who was not particularly sympathetic.
'Perhaps you shouldn't have assumed charge of her, madam,' she said,
'but having done so, hadn't you better see if you can get her into a
hospital?' It isn't a bad suggestion, and after a day or two we will
consider it, or I will get a trained nurse to take full charge of her.
I would be at any reasonable expense rather than have our pleasure
interfered with any further."

It still seems odd to make a proposition of this kind. In former times,
Francesca was the Croesus of the party, Salemina came second, and I
last, with a most precarious income. Now I am the wealthy one, Francesca
is reduced to the second place, and Salemina to the third, but it makes
no difference whatever, either in our relations, our arrangements, or,
for that matter, in our expenditures.

Chapter IV. Enter Benella Dusenberry.

'A fair maiden wander'd
All wearied and lone,
Sighing, "I'm a poor stranger,
And far from my own."
We invited her in,
We offered her share
Of our humble cottage
And our humble fare;
We bad