the tenth of July. Whe

n such a question. She

s I born

to evasion. To her there

know," s

er knows the very day that Helen was bor

re sent to me. I do not know how old you were. I think a

tiously. "Most babies are just a minute old when they are sent down on e

he angels feel pleasure in one's society. Yet it had its disadvantages too. One could not be qui

let her thoughts go back to her household duties and, some time having elapsed between this

what-of

the angels when

directly to me. I am

za and leaned against her knee. There was surprise, consternation, pa

You're just like Helen's mother, only you're a go

are not my ch

orn your li

n you were born you d

and trembling, but she was pressing them hard so as to make no outcry. The tears were very near the surface, but Beth would not let them

is it,

orn child," she said. "I w

nse of the fitness of some things and make the child happy. "You may be my born child, then," she said. "You may be born i

ey are always talking about pulling ears and what presents they got. They don't have their bi

ay have a birthday, too, just like the other girls. You came to my house the first day

only trouble she had had in her life. It was

oo, Adee, with candl

eplied Eli

how people conducted themselves; how they spoke and dressed. She was always attracted toward the refined and gentle. Eliza's heart rejoiced at thi

white dresses and cheap thin prints, but they were artistic and suited Eliza far better than the dark, somber colors. Perhaps it was easy to follow Beth's wishes in regard to the matter of clothes, for Eliza's heart had always hungered a

ared this the type of beauty, and the folk of Shintown had accepted it then, and their grand-children looked upon it as a matter of course even now. So to them Eliza Wells was not beautiful. Her broad, white forehead w

ward whenever he repeated it. It was large, perhaps, but it displayed beautiful teeth, and its curves were exquisite. There was strength and sweetness both in i

a sat in the living room, taking a few stitches in her weekly mending. The room had been darkened save where she had raised the b

ston had placed her when Prince had run away-five years before. It was big and cozy and comfortable. Beth had slept soundly and long.

tell. She watched her foster-mother, and at last said, "You don't wear your hair li

I always wore it just this way-

ittle curls about your face, and you used to wear flower

child. "When did I wear flowers in my hair, Little O

e recollections of her babyhood days intrude themselves? Was a little portion of her brain openi

flowers in it, stuck down over your ear so, and your dresses would be long in the back. Don't you remember, you'd come in my r

ur remembering. The other name

trace of her people could be found. There was no joy to Eliza in this thought. Beth gone!

y room, Beth, w

w-the bed. You hadn't any carpets on the floor. It was pretty, all right, bu

hat lightness she could muster. "You are such a big girl no

said Beth. "If we had it ready, we migh

a gray stone mans

were tricks of the child's imagination. Eliza had a picture in her mind of the big, fair woman, shabbily dressed, whom she had found along the roadside

her it would be wiser to encourage the child in these remembrances or fits of fan

ow hair? She used to have it wrapped close to her head. There we

Bena, Adee. Wasn't Bena funny? She had such funny words." Then suddenly a new mood came to the child. Getting down qu

t did you ever do to Bena? She hasn't been here s

do not know, Beth. I am s