There was a ring on a poor string of a ribbon on the mother's neck, and there was a fragment of a letter which Von Rosen managed to make out.

He thinks that the poor child was married to another child of her own race.

The boy is all right and he will be a fine little fellow." "It is of no use," said Maria Sturtevant.

"I can't make up my mind to adopt a baby, that belonged to that kind of people.

I simply can not, Edward." Sturtevant gave up the matter for the time being.