our having taken her, though she was so very delicate,
would result in another, a healthy child, being saved, who, if she had
been refused, would never have been brought. This hope comforted us; and
we prayed definitely for its fulfilment, and it was fulfilled. For
shortly after that little seed had been sown in death, information came
from the same source through which she had been saved, that another
child was in danger of being adopted by Temple women; and this
information would not have been given to our friend had the first child
been refused. Nundinie we called this little gift: the name means
Happiness.

Sometimes in moments of depression and disappointment we go for change
of air and scene to the Premalia nursery; and the baby Nundinie,
otherwise Dimples, of whom more afterwards, comes running up to us with
her welcoming smile and outstretched arms; while others, with stories as
full of comfort, tumble about us, and cuddle, and nestle, and pat us
into shape. Then we take courage again, and ask forgiveness for our
fears. It is true our problems are not always solved, and perhaps more
difficult days are before; but we will not be afraid. Sometimes a sudden
light falls on the way, and we look up and still it shines: and what can
we do but "follow the Gleam"?

CHAPTER XIII

A Story of Comfort

[Illustration: SEELA IS THE BABY IN THE MIDDLE.

She slipped into the picture at the last moment, and so was caught
unawares. Mala is to the right; Nullinie to the left. (This little one's
left hand and foot are partially paralyzed through drugging in
infancy.)]

AMONG the stories of comfort is one that belongs to our merry little
Seela. She is bigger now than when the despairing photographer broke
thirteen plates in the vain attempt to catch her; but she is still most
elusive and alluring, a veritable baby, though over two years old. Some
months ago, the Iyer measured her, and told her she was thirty-two
inches of mischief. For weeks afterwards, when asked her name, she
always replied with gravity, "Terty-two inses of mistef."

All who have to do with babies know how different they can be in
disposition and habits. There is the shop-window baby, who shows all her
innocent wares at once to everyone kind enough to look. She is a
charming baby. And there is the little wild bird of the wood, who will
answer your whistle politely, if you know how to whistle her note; but
she will not trust herself near you till sh