e at once, but she went daily to Betty's and
with amazement watched the miracle Betty was performing. She never
forgot the hour, when, going softly up the stairs, she heard little Ann
laugh gleefully and clap her hands.

Betty was playing with the baby and telling Ann a story at the same
time. Lynda paused to listen.

"And now come here, little Ann, and kiss Bobilink. Isn't he smelly-sweet
and wonderful?"

"Yes."

"That's right. Kiss him again. And you once said you just naturally
didn't like babies! Little Ann, you are a humbug. And now tell me how
much you like Bobilink."

"Heaps and lickwigs."

"Now kiss me, you darling, and come close--so we will not waken Bobbie.
Let me see, this is going to be the story of the little girl who adopted
a--mother! Yesterday it was Bobbie's story of how a mother adopted a
little boy. You remember, the mother had to have a baby to fill a big
empty space, so she went to a house where some lost kiddies were and
found just the one that fitted in and--and--but this is Ann's story
to-day!

"Once there was a little girl--a very dear and good little girl--who
knew all about a mother, and how dear a mother was; because she had one
who was obliged to go away--"

"For a right lil' time?" Ann broke in.

"Of course," Betty agreed, "a right little time; but the small girl
thought, while she waited, that she would adopt a mother and not tell
her about the other one, for fear she might not understand, and she'd
teach the adopted mother how to be a real mother. And now one must
remember all the things little girls do to--to adopted mothers. First--"

At this point Lynda entered the room, but Betty went on calmly:

"First, what do little girls do, Ann?"

"Teach them how to hold lil' girls."

"Splendid! What next?"

"Kiss them and cuddle them right close."

"Exactly! Next?"

"They make mothers glad and they make them laugh--by being mighty good."

Then both Betty and Ann looked at Lynda. The sharp, outer air had
brought colour to her cheeks, life to her eyes. She was very handsome
in her rich furs and dark, feathered hat.

"Now, little Ann, trot along and do the lesson, don't forget!" Betty
pushed the child gently toward Lynda.

With a laugh, lately learned and a bit doubtful, Ann ran to the opened
arms.

"Snuggle!" commanded Betty.

"I'm learning, little Ann," Lynda whispered, "you're a dear teacher. And
now I have something to tell you."

Ann leaned back and looked with