mother of THAT! Isn't it simply appalling?
But I can't be, you know. I can't be her _mother_. Now _can_ I? I've
told her already--I had to decide in a flash. I admire her immensely,
and we're going to be fond of each other and the greatest chums. But we
must be _sisters_."

Then I knew what she had whispered to make Barrie start and blanch. She
had said, "I won't be your mother." And Barrie had turned involuntarily
to Somerled because she had felt herself unwanted and her heart was
breaking.

All this was preparing me for a career of villainy, though I must say in
self-defence that it was Aline who lit the match. "The woman tempted me,
and I did eat!"

"Come and sit by me, lovely doll," said Mrs. Bal, pulling the girl down
beside her on the most cushiony and comfortable sofa. "So you are the
baby! I haven't forgotten you. I've thought of you a _lot_--really a
lot. But you never seemed _mine_, you know. _They_ wouldn't let me feel
you belonged to me. They were so good! Of course I had to leave you
for--for them to take care of. They thought they knew everything about
babies. I dare say they were right. I _had_ to escape. I couldn't have
lived with them another day, in that awful house. But I've been oh, _so_
proper, and good, really. Even they could have hardly been shocked. And
I've hired three red-haired watch-dogs. But it isn't only myself I want
to talk about--it's you. I do think you're the prettiest thing I ever
saw--though I oughtn't to say so, perhaps, because I believe we're
alike. Aren't we, Somerled?"

"In some ways, not in others," dryly returned the gentleman addressed.

"Oh, I know the differences are in her favour--Diogenes! All the more
reason why I can't possibly own her for a daughter. My yearly profits
would go down a hundred per cent. And although she's perfectly
_darling_, and I'm going to love her--as a sister--she couldn't have
come to me at a worse moment."

"Oh--why?" pleaded Barrie, speaking for the first time.

"Because--you may as well hear this, all of you, since I've called you
to a council of war. I want you to realize"--and she gave each of us a
look in turn: a lovely, characteristic "Mrs. Bal" look--"that I'm on my
knees to you. I've thrown myself on your mercy. You've got to help me
out. The truth is"--she began taking off her gloves and looking down at
her own hands, her rings sparkling as the pink and white fingers were
bared--"the truth is, I'm a little--a tiny little bit--ti