If you would allow me to take her on as
a housemaid in the general hospital, I think I could make something
out of her; at least I should like to try."
"Have your own way," says the commandant, relenting; "you always
do. Now tell me the next trouble. You have something more up your
sleeve, I'm sure."
"Babies," she replies demurely; "two babies from Amsterdam. Lost,
somehow or other, in the flight. No trace of their people. A family
in Zaandam has been taking care of them, but can't afford it any
longer. So the Amsterdam committee has sent them here."
The commandant has listened, his cheeks growing redder and redder,
his eyes rounder and more prominent. He springs up and paces the
floor in wrath.
"Babies!" he cries stormily. "By all the gods, da--those Amsterdammers!
Excuse me, but this is too much. Do they think this is a foundling
asylum? or a nursing home? Babies! What in Heaven's name am I to
do with them? Babies! Where are those babies?"
"Just outside, and very nice babies indeed," says the nurse, opening
the hall door and giving a soft call.
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