ood up, tiptoed to
the table, and bent above the miraculously fine texture of the flower
their worn and wrinkled faces. The petals cast a clear, rosy reflection
upon their sallow cheeks. Some of the younger mothers took their little
children over to the table and lifting them up till their round shining
eyes were on a level with the flower, let them gaze their fill at the
mysterious splendor of stamen and pistil.

"Would you like to go quite close and look at it, children?" Marise
asked her own brood.

The little boys stepped forward at once, curiously, but Elly said, "No,
oh _no!_" and backed off till she stood leaning against Toucle's knee.
The old woman put her dark hand down gently on the child's soft hair and
smiled at her. How curious it was to see that grim, battered old visage
smile! Elly was the only creature in the world at whom the old Indian
ever smiled, indeed almost the only thing in the house which those
absent old eyes ever seemed to see. Marise remembered that Toucle had
smiled when she first took the baby Elly in her arms.

* * * * *

A little murmur of talk arose now, from the assembled neighbors. They
stood up, moved about, exchanged a few laconic greetings, and began
putting their wraps on. Marise remembered that Mr. Welles had seemed
tired and as soon as possible set her party in motion.

"Thank you so much, Nelly, for letting us know," she said to the
farmer's wife, as they came away. "It wouldn't seem like a year in our
valley if we didn't see your cereus in bloom."

She took Elly's hand in one of hers, and with Mark on the other side
walked down the path to the road. The darkness was intense there,
because of the gigantic pine-tree which towered above the little house.
"Are you there, Paul?" she called through the blackness. The little
boy's voice came back, "Yes, with Toucle, we're ahead." The two men
walked behind.

Elly's hand was hot and clasped her mother's very tightly. Marise bent
over the little girl and divined in the darkness that she was crying.
"Why, Elly darling, what's the matter?" she asked.

The child cried out passionately, on a mounting note, "Nothing, nothing!
_Nothing!_" She flung her arms around her mother's neck, straining her
close in a wild embrace. Little Mark, on the other side, yawned and
staggered sleepily on his feet. Elly gave her mother a last kiss, and
ran on ahead, calling over her shoulder, "I'm going to walk by myself!"