There was a couple who disappeared. When she confessed all this to her charge, telling the now grown up babe that there was no hope in the world of establishing any claim, she very soon discovered her mistake. To them all I am nothing. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. Like appendicitis. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how.
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