her chosen path she courageously took
stock, as it were, of her gains and possible losses.

For instance, when Mrs. Tweksbury had appeared to discern resemblance
between Nancy and Meredith, she wondered if, as often is the case, the
impartial observer could discover what familiarity had screened?

But try as she did, at that time, she could not find the slightest
physical trace of likeness, and she brought old photographs to her aid.
While, on the other hand, the mental and temperamental characteristics
of both little girls were such as were common to healthy childhood.

Again it was possible for Doris to face any fact that might present
itself--she knew that, by her past course, she had not only secured
justice for the children but faith in herself.

Her greatest concern now was the menace of Thornton.

"Think of Nancy," she mused, "sweet, sensitive, and fine, under such
influence! And Joan so high-strung and reckless! It would be a hopeless
condition!"

Looked upon from this viewpoint Doris grew depressed. While her
conscience remained clear as to any real wrong she had done in acting as
she had, there were anxious hours spent in imagining that time when, as
Thornton said, the girls themselves must know.

When must they know?

Doris had not considered that before to any extent.

Thornton might demand at once that they know the truth. He had a right
to that.

Here was a new danger, but as the silence continued the immediate fear
of this lessened. And the children were mere babies. They could not
possibly understand if they were told, now.

Until such time, then, as they must be told, Doris renewed her efforts
in building well the small, healthy minds and bodies.

"When they marry"--this brought a smile--"when they marry! Of course,
then, they must know." With that conclusion reached, anxiety was once
more lulled to rest.

Gradually the old peaceful days merged into new peaceful days. Doris
entered, little by little, into her social duties so long neglected; the
children romped and lived joyously in the old house--"just
children"--until suddenly a small but significant thing occurred when
they were nine years of age that startled Doris into a line of thought
that brought about a radical change in all their lives.

She was sitting in the library one stormy day, reading. The tall back of
the chair hid her from view, the fire and the book were soothing, and
the excuse--that the storm gave her the right to