Paul. "Mrs. Lynde was down here one
day last week having tea with Grandma, and Grandma made me show her
my little mother's picture . . . the one father sent me for my birthday
present. I didn't exactly want to show it to Mrs. Lynde. Mrs. Lynde is a
good, kind woman, but she isn't the sort of person you want to show your
mother's picture to. YOU know, teacher. But of course I obeyed Grandma.
Mrs. Lynde said she was very pretty but kind of actressy looking, and
must have been an awful lot younger than father. Then she said, 'Some of
these days your pa will be marrying again likely. How will you like to
have a new ma, Master Paul?' Well, the idea almost took my breath away,
teacher, but I wasn't going to let Mrs. Lynde see THAT. I just looked
her straight in the face . . . like this . . . and I said, 'Mrs. Lynde,
father made a pretty good job of picking out my first mother and I could
trust him to pick out just as good a one the second time.' And I CAN
trust him, teacher. But still, I hope, if he ever does give me a new
mother, he'll ask my opinion about her before it's too late. There's
Mary Joe coming to call us to tea. I'll go and consult with her about
the shortbread."

As a result of the "consultation," Mary Joe cut the shortbread and added
a dish of preserves to the bill of fare. Anne poured the tea and she
and Paul had a very merry meal in the dim old sitting room whose windows
were open to the gulf breezes, and they talked so much "nonsense" that
Mary Joe was quite scandalized and told Veronica the next evening that
"de school mees" was as queer as Paul. After tea Paul took Anne up to
his room to show her his mother's picture, which had been the mysterious
birthday present kept by Mrs. Irving in the bookcase. Paul's little
low-ceilinged room was a soft whirl of ruddy light from the sun that was
setting over the sea and swinging shadows from the fir trees that grew
close to the square, deep-set window. From out this soft glow and glamor
shone a sweet, girlish face, with tender mother eyes, that was hanging
on the wall at the foot of the bed.

"That's my little mother," said Paul with loving pride. "I got Grandma
to hang it there where I'd see it as soon as I opened my eyes in the
morning. I never mind not having the light when I go to bed now, because
it just seems as if my little mother was right here with me. Father knew
just what I would like for a birthday present, although he never asked
me. Isn't it wonderfu