nd Emerson and frilly muslin
shirtwaists. That pretty head held but two realities--Sammy,
whistling robin-like as he made tea in the kitchen, and the little
human lamb hugged up on her arm.

But suddenly the whistling ceased, and Sammy's voice, thrilling
with joy, exclaimed:

"Oh, mother!"

"Mrs. Willson sent word to me. Your father's gone to the
village, and I ran away, Sammy boy," whispered Mrs. Norris,
eagerly. "I just ran away. Where's Della and--the baby?"

"In here, mother, and--bless you for coming!" said the big fellow,
stepping softly towards the bedroom. But his mother was there
before him, her arms slipping tenderly about the two small beings
on the bed.

"It wasn't my fault, daughter," she said, tremulously.

"I know it," faintly smiled Della. "Just these last few hours I
know I'd stand by this baby boy of mine here until the Judgement
Day, and so I now know it must have nearly broken your heart not
to stand by Sammy."

"Well, grandmother!" laughed Sam, "what do you think of the new
Norris?"

"Grandmother?" gasped Mrs. Norris. "Why, Sammy, _am I a
grandmother_? Grandmother to this little sweetheart?" And the proud
old arms lifted the wee "new Norris" right up from its mother's
arms, and every tiny toe and finger was kissed and crooned over,
while Sam shyly winked at Della and managed to whisper, "You'll
see, girl, that dad will come around now; but he can just keep out
of _our house_. There are two of us that can be harsh. I'm not
going to come at _his_ first whistle."

Della smiled to herself, but said nothing. Much wisdom had come to
her within the last year, with the last day--wisdom not acquired
within the covers of books, nor yet beneath college roofs, and one
truth she had mastered long ago--that

"To help and to heal a sorrow
Love and silence are always best."

But late that night, when Martha Norris returned home, another
storm broke above her hapless head. Old Billy sat on the kitchen
steps waiting for her, frowning, scowling, muttering. "Where have
you been?" he demanded, glaring at her, although some inner
instinct told him what her answer would be.

"I've been to Sammy's," she said, in a peculiarly still voice, "and
I'm going again to-morrow." Then with shoulders more erect and eyes
calmer than they had been for many months, she continued: "And I'm
going again the next day, and the next. Billy, you and I've got a
grandson--a splendid, fair, strong boy, and--"

"What!" sn