n thoroughly and
successfully inculcated, until the habit was formed. And now Athalie
was the last of the children to discover the gentle fraud practised
upon her.

"I'm glad, anyway," concluded the child. "I never thought we left him
enough to eat."

Her mother said: "I shall tell you only truths after this. You are old
enough to understand reason, now, and to reason a little yourself."

"I do.... But I am not yet perfectly sure where babies come from. You
said you would tell me _that_ some day. I'd really like to know,
mamma."

Her mother continued to sew for a while, then, passing the needle
through the hem she looked down at her daughter.

"Have you formed any opinion of your own?"

"Yes," said the child honestly.

"Then I'd better tell you the truth," said her mother tranquilly,
"because the truth is very wonderful and beautiful--and interesting."

So she related to the child, very simply and clearly all that need be
told concerning the mystery of life in its beginnings; and Athalie
listened, enchanted.

And mostly it thrilled the child to realise that in her, too, lay
latent a capability for the creation of life.

* * * * *

Another hour with her mother she remembered in after years.

Mrs. Greensleeve had not been as well: the doctor came oftener.
Frequently Athalie returning from school discovered her mother lying
on the bed. That evening the child was sitting on the floor at her
mother's feet as usual, just inside the circle of lamplight, playing
solitaire with an ancient pack of cards.

Presently something near the door attracted her attention and she
lifted her head and sat looking at it, mildly interested, until,
suddenly, she felt her mother's eyes on her, flushed hotly, and turned
her head away.

"_What_ were you looking at?" asked her mother in a low voice.

"Nothing, mamma."

"Athalie!"

"What, mamma?"

"_What_ were you looking at?"

The child hung her head: "Nothing--" she began; but her mother checked
her: "Don't lie, Athalie. I'll try to understand you. Now tell me what
you were--what you thought you were looking at over there near the
door."

The child turned and glanced back at the door over her shoulder.

"There is nothing there--now," she muttered.

"Was there anything?"

Athalie sat silent for a while, then she laid her clasped hands across
her mother's knees and rested her cheek on them.

"There was a woman there," she said.

"Whe