utting criss-cross
initials on a pile of unmarked little garments. It was part of the
creed that clothes be marked.

Presently, as the child came to her aunt's knee for a completed
garment, Harriet laid a hand on the little shoulder. Demonstration
came hard and brought a flush of embarrassment with it.

"Alexina," she said, "you haven't mentioned your mother!"

The child stood silent but there came a repeated swallowing in her
throat while a slow red welled up over the little face.

Harriet had a feeling of sudden liking and understanding. "You would
rather--you prefer not?"

The child nodded, but later, as if from some fear of appearing
unresponsive, she brought an album from her trunk and spread it open
on Harriet's knee. She seemed a loyal small soul to her kinsfolk,
mainly her mother's people, and turning the leaves went through the
enumeration.

At one page--"Daddy," she said.

"Daddy" applied in a baby's cadence to Alexander! Daddy! It was a
revelation of that part of her brother's life which Harriet had
forgotten in accounting assets. "Daddy," called fearlessly, with
intonation unconsciously dear and appealing. And Alexander had been
that to his child!

There was no picture of Molly, but there was a torn and vacant space
facing Alexander. Had the child removed one? She bore resentment
then? Harriet had no idea how far a child of nine could comprehend and
feel the situation.

She would have been surprised at other things a child of nine can
feel. If the routine of the house dragged dully to Alexina, Harriet
never suspected it. The personal attention was detailed to Nelly, who
divined more--Nelly, the freckle-faced, humorous-eyed house girl,
taken from the Orphans' Home and trained by Harriet's mother. But,
then, Nelly had been orphaned herself, and had known those first days
following asylum consignment and perhaps had not forgot. Her sympathy
expressed itself through the impersonal, the Blair training not having
encouraged the other.

"Such a be-yewtiful dress," said she, laying out the clothes for her
charge.

Which was true; no child of Molly's would have suffered for clothes,
Molly loving them too well herself.

"And such be-yewtiful slippers," said Nelly, with Alexina in her lap,
pulling up the little stocking and buttoning the strap about the
ankle.

Alexina's hand held tight to Nelly's hard, firm arm, steadying
herself. Perhaps she divined the intention. "Can I come, too, when you
go to