ing wonderful enough in
themselves to occupy her attention for some time to come. "People often
enough change their last names for some reason or other."

"Then you mean," said Grace, "that William Mullins is really William
Sanderson?"

"A fair assumption," returned Mollie dryly. "Unless Mrs. Sanderson's name
is Mullins."

"Perhaps the best way," suggested Betty peaceably, "would be to wait and
let Mrs. Sanderson tell us about it."

"Wait--" Grace was beginning, when a gentle tap sounded on the door and
Betty flew to open it.

On the threshold stood Mrs. Sanderson, her eyes red with weeping, yet her
whole face so transformed with joy that the girls would hardly have
recognized her as the Mrs. Sanderson of that morning. Instinctively they
glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the tall figure of Sergeant
Mullins looming in the background, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"He's--he's gone," said the little old lady tremulously, seeming to
interpret their glances, at the same time coming timidly into the room.
"He told me to tell you," her face lighted up still more with that
wonderful inward joy, "that he would have stayed and thanked you young
ladies, but he'd made sort of an idiot of himself--so he said--an' would
be around later, instead."

"And is he really--really--_really_ your son?" cried Betty, unable to
contain herself longer, pressing the old lady into a chair and kneeling
down before her eagerly. "Oh, we knew you'd come and tell us! We've been
so very happy for you."

"Yes, he's my Willie boy," answered the little old lady, speaking dreamily
as though even yet she was not able to grasp the wonderful thing that had
happened to her. "It's strange when I come to think of it how I knew him
right away because, you see, I've always sort o' thought of him as my
little son, my baby, and in my mind I've always seen him as he was that
day he ran away. But he's really just the same--my little Willie boy--only
taller and sort o' broader in the shoulders an' handsomer--" her voice
broke and Betty slipped a sympathetic little hand in hers while the girls
gathered closer.

"You see, I've been prayin' for this thing for a good many years," she
went on quaintly, "an' it looks like Providence sort o' saw fit to answer
me at last. An' He jest picked out the sweetes' little ladies He could
find to be His instruments."

The girls laughed unsteadily and Betty's young hand tightened on the old
one.

"We feel as if