know of
anyone ever trying to help me."

Like a flash the little mother was between the two, a soothing hand on
the father's shoulder.

"Now don't you two be a-spoiling this night," she laughed a bit
hysterically. "Of course our girl's going to be too fine for anyone, but
it's always a-loving she'll be to her Dad and her Mommy." She declared
it with an ardent triumph. This mother who had once dreamed things for
herself dreamed them now for her boy and girl. From Beryl's infancy she
had taught her to want "fine things." And Beryl wanted them with all
her heart and, with youth's selfishness, wanted them for herself, alone.

After her father's taunt, Beryl, with sullen resentment, locked her lips
on her other pleasant experiences. Nor would she tell now how Robin had
written to her guardian to send down a real violin for her to practice
upon, or what fun it was to study with Mr. Percival Tubbs, whose ears
were distractingly like Brussels sprouts. And that she learned much,
much faster than Robin did! Poor Robin was always wondering the why of
everything.

Her mother suddenly exclaimed: "It's Father Murphy's beads you shall
wear this night, my girl. Didn't the good soul, God rest him, give them
with his blessing? Watch the potatoes while I get them."

Moira's beads had always played a significant part in her life. They
marked what she called her "blessings." Without doubt the rare bright
spots in her life shone like blessings for the dark of their background.
Years ago, when her Danny had had his accident and her world had seemed
to turn upside down until it rested, full-weight, upon her poor
shoulders, her "blessing" had been Miss Lewis at the settlement. Miss
Lewis had given her work so that she could earn money to feed her
family; Miss Lewis had sent the chair to Danny; Miss Lewis had found
cheaper lodgings and had helped her make them homelike. Another blessing
had been Jacques Henri, the old Belgian who lived above them and whose
violin had attracted Beryl as the magnet draws the iron. A lonely soul,
he had found sweet company in the child and had gladly helped the eager
fingers. Later he had come down to supper with them and Beryl had played
a "piece" for her Pop, wearing the beads in honor of the occasion. When
Beryl had graduated from the graded school she had stood as class
prophet before an assemblage of fond relatives, among them Dale and
herself--wearing the green beads. Moira had wished Father Murphy were