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An' they think I dastn't think what they think! An' I thought maybe he always liked you, Meg-Laundress, an' said you done his shirts to beat. Oh, Meg, Meg, what shall I do? Whatever shall I do?" The warm-hearted washerwoman thrilled with pity for the forsaken child yet she put on her most brilliant surface-smile and answered promptly: "Do? Why, do jest what Jane an' me laid out to have ye do.
Station house matrons were kind enough, and their temporary care of her brood had been a relief to overworked Meg-Laundress; but for this beautiful "Guardian," they were all unfit. Only tenderest love should ever come near so angelic a little creature and of such love Glory's own heart was full. She reasoned swiftly.
"And here I find you, already," said Luigi, accepting the wonderful fact as if it were the simplest thing in the world, whereas, out of the many roads by which he might have journeyed from the city, this was the one least likely to attract his wandering footsteps. And this strange thing was, afterward, to confirm good Meg-Laundress in her faith in "Guardian Angels."
Well, I'll find out afore I sleep, or my name ain't Meg-Laundress, an' I say it. Guess Jane'll open her eyes when I up an' tells her how one them grand folks she sees crossin' the bridge so constant has got astray in the Lane an' come a visitin', actilly a visitin', one our own folks. But then, I always knowed, we Elbowers was a touch above some, an' now she'll know it, too.
As for Billy Buttons and Nick, his chum, they were as bad as ever; and Posy Jane had never a penny for his music, never; though Meg-Laundress would sometimes toss him one if he would play for a long, long time and so keep her children amused and out of mischief.
Glory was truthful and loving, and her grandfather had taught her to be clean, honest, and industrious, but, beyond this, she had had little training. She knew that Meg-Laundress and Posy Jane both firmly believed in "Guardian Angels" who hovered about human beings to protect and prosper them.
"Oh, oh, I believe she's sick! Do 'Angels' ever get sick? But she isn't a truly 'Angel, I know now. She's just somebody's lost baby. Queer! Grandpa so old an' she so young should both of 'em get lost to onct, an' only me to look out for 'em! Yet, maybe, that Mary Fogarty woman'll help us out. I hope she'll be like Meg-Laundress, or darlin' Posy Jane. Strange, how long these fields are.
My grandfather says 'giff-gaff makes good friends, an' 'one kind turn 'serves another. He knows a lot, grandpa does; an' me an' him both thanks you, Meg-Laundress you darlin'!" Away around the big neck of the woman at the tub went Glory's slender arms, and when the patient toiler released herself from this inconvenient embrace, there was something besides soapsuds glistening on her hot cheek.
Glory thought of all the fairy stories with which the old blind captain had beguiled their darkened evenings in that "littlest house" where gas or lamplight could not be afforded; then she went on to real stories of the Elbow children themselves; of Meg-Laundress and Posy Jane; and most of all of Nick and Billy, her chosen comrades and almost brothers.
Are our folks in the Lane wicked, daughter?" "Grandpa!" she cried, indignantly. "When there's such a good, good woman, Jane's sister Meg-Laundress, what washes for us just 'cause I mend her things.
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