r hand steady as she laid it on his head, I think
they understood each other and were grateful from their hearts for
that hour of reconciliation. For Margarita the stately silver-haired
figure with immovable features and fixed, withdrawn gaze held some
unexpected and inexplicable charm. She kissed Madam Bradley willingly,
set the little Mary on her lap and beguiled the child with every
graceful wile to laugh and crow and exhibit her tiny vocabulary. She
sang by the hour, so that the gloomy house--brightened now, for the
baby's health--echoed with her lovely notes. Bradleys and Searses and
Wolcotts flocked to meet her and spread her fame and charm abroad; and
Roger forgot for a while the load he carried and seemed like himself
again. Even Sarah capitulated, and that before very long, too. I saw
her actually wiping away a tear as she watched Madam Bradley lift with
great effort her cold white finger and trace the outline of her
grandchild's face: the little Mary was the image of her father and a
fine Bradley, with only her mother's quick motions and mobile smile to
remind one of that side of her ancestry.

Of course Madam Bradley was not demonstrative, nor even cordial, from
any ordinary point of view, but from hers, and in the light of our
knowledge of her, there was a tremendous difference. Already she had
given little Mary a beautiful diamond cross and the famous Bradley
silver tea-service. Sarah had softened wonderfully, too, and seemed
to feel that since her aunt did not die, it was incumbent upon her to
pay her debt to heaven by burying the hatchet. I don't think I ever
quite did Sarah justice, so far as her feeling for Madam Bradley
went--she appeared to be deeply and genuinely attached to her and was
sick with anxiety when the stroke took her. She shared perfectly the
grandmother's feeling over the baby, and Margarita's good taste in
presenting Roger with such a perfect Bradley was set down to her
credit with vigorous justice. For she never forgave poor Alice for the
brown little Carters. Alice's children resembled their father, and
Sue's (almost grandchildren, in that house) were sickly and
comparatively unattractive; but Margarita's daughter, perfect in
health, beautiful as a baby angel, active, daring, and enchantingly
affectionate, satisfied the old lady's pride completely and she sat
for hours contentedly watching her sprawl on an Indian blanket on the
floor.

Either the comfort of renewed relations with he