What could all this mean, if it had not something to do with the cast-off baby?
Certainty at last came.

She was in the dining-room when Edith ran down to meet her father in the hall, and slipped noiselessly and unobserved into one of the parlors, where, concealed by a curtain, she heard everything that passed between her husband and daughter.
Still as death she stood, holding down the strong pulses of her heart.
From the hall Edith and her father turned into one of the parlors--the same in which Mrs.Dinneford was concealed behind the curtain--and sat down.
"It had large brown eyes ?" said Edith, a yearning tenderness in her voice.
"Yes, and a finely-formed bead, showing good parentage," returned the father.
"Didn't you find out who the women were--the two bad women the little girl told me about?
If we had their names, the police could find them.
The little girl's mother must know who they are." "We have the name of one of them," said Mr.Dinneford.

"She is called Pinky Swett, and it can't be long before the police are on her track.
She is said to be a desperate character.

Nothing more can be done now; we must wait until the police work up the affair.

I will call at the mayor's office in the morning and find out what has been done." Mrs.Dinneford heard no more.