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254 You are always here. Did that baby—is the Bell baby—better?”

Mrs. Garden knew what the word was which Mary could not bring herself to say. “The Bell baby was not badly burned, Mary. You saved her. She has suffered merely surface burns. She is in bandages, but not hurt as you are! Oh, Mary darling, and you are so much more valuable!” Mrs. Garden could not repress the cry. Mary gave her the ghost of her own smile.

“You mean you all love me best! You can’t tell about value. The Bell baby may do fine things before she is eighteen. I’m glad she is living,” Mary managed to say.

“You saved her life. I never expect to save a life in all my own life! A whole chime of Bell babies couldn’t ring the peal you do, Molly darling!” said Jane, who had come into the room.

Mary smiled at her, a better smile than she had heretofore achieved.

“Prejudice!” she whispered.

Slight as this encouragement was, Jane went away cheered. Surely taking interest in the Bell baby and discussing comparative value of lives must mean that Mary was better! Yet after this the fever which the doctor had feared