unny room upstairs Betty sat in a low rocker, crooning away to a
restless bundle in her arms.

"You, Lyn?" Lynda stood in the doorway; Betty's back was to her.

"Yes, Betty."

"Come and see my red-headed boy--my Bobilink! He's going to be Robert
Kendall."

Then Lynda drew near with Ann. Betty stopped rocking and confronted the
two with her far-reaching, strangely penetrating gaze.

"What a beautiful little girl," she whispered.

"Is she beautiful, Betty?"

"She's--lovely. Come here, dear, and see my baby." Betty put forth a
welcoming hand to the child, but Ann shrank away and her long silence
was broken.

"I jes' naturally hate babies!" she whispered, in the soft drawl that
betrayed her.

"Lyn, who is she? Why--what is the matter?"

Lynda came close and her words did not reach past Betty's strained
hearing. "I--I'm going to--adopt her. I--I must prepare, Con. I hoped
you'd keep her for a few days."

"Of course I will, Lyn. I'm ready--but Lyn, tell me!"

"Betty, look at her! She has come out of--of Con's past. He doesn't
know, he mustn't know--not now! She belongs to--to the future. Can
you--can you understand? I never suspected until to-day. I've got to get
used to it!" Then, fiercely: "But I'm going to do it, Betty! Con's road
is my road; his duty my duty; it's all right--only just at first--I've
got to--steady my nerves!"

Without a word Betty rose and laid the now-sleeping baby in a crib; then
she came back to the low chair and opened her arms to little Ann with
the heaven-given gesture that no child resists--especially a suffering,
lonely child.

"Come here, little girl, to--to Aunt Betty," she said.

Fascinated, Ann walked to the shelter offered.

"Will you kiss me?" Betty asked. The kiss was given mutely.

"Will you tell Aunt Betty your name?"

"Ann."

"Ann what?"

"Jes' lil' Ann."

Then Betty raised her eyes to Lynda's face and smiled at its tragic
suffering.

"Poor, old Lyn!" she said, "run home to Con. You need him and God knows
he needs you. It will take the big love, Lyn, dear, the big love; but
you have it--you have it!"

Without a word Lynda turned and left Betty with the children.

CHAPTER XXI

Potential motherhood can endure throes of travail other than physical;
and for the next week Lynda passed through all the phases of spiritual
readjustment that enabled her, with blessed certainty of success, to
accept what she had undertaken.

She did not speak to Truedal