Judging by their conversation with the senator, most of the steerage passengers seemed to be men--Scotch or Irish, going back to the “Ould Country” for a visit to the “ould folks.” Betty listened a few minutes, and then went on to the end of the passage, which opened out into a room that seemed to be salon and dining-hall combined. Though this room was nearly empty, the air was close and stifling and Betty was going back to the deck to wait there for the senator, when her attention was attracted by a group of women gathered in one corner. They were standing around a little figure that sat huddled in a forlorn heap on the wooden bench along the wall. The woman--or the child, for she looked hardly more than that--hugged a baby tight in her arms, and rocked it back and forward, moaning pitifully to herself all the time.