wn with special knowledge
on the subject of sin."

"That," Miriam said pensively, "must have been amusing."

"No. Only dreary and somehow rather unclean. I liked to go to the
surgery afterwards and smell the antiseptics."

"I wish the horrible black-gowned man could know that," Helen said
fiercely.

He looked down, smiling tolerantly. "But it doesn't matter now."

"It does. It will always matter. You were little--" She broke off and
huddled herself closer in her shawl, as though she held a small thing in
its folds.

He found nothing to say; he was swept by gratitude for this tenderness.
It was, he knew, what she would have given to anything needing comfort,
but it was no less wonderful for that and he was warmed by it and, at
the same time, disturbed. She seemed to have her hands near his heart,
and they were pressing closer.

"Go on," said Miriam, unconscious of the emotions that lived near her.
"I like to hear about other people's miseries. Were you rather a funny
little boy?"

"I expect so."

"Pale and plain, I should think," she said consideringly, "with too big
a nose. Oh, it's all right now, rather nice, but little boys so often
have noses out of proportion. I shall have girls. Did you wear black
clothes on Sunday?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Poor little ugly thing! Helen, are you listening? Black clothes! And
your hair oiled?"

"No, not so bad as that. My mother was a very particular lady."

"Can you tell us about her?" Helen asked.

"I don't know that I can."

"You oughtn't to have suggested it," Miriam said in a reproof which was
ready to turn to mockery at a hint from Zebedee.

"He won't tell us if he doesn't want to. You wouldn't be hurt by
anything we said, would you?"

"Of course not. The difficulty is that there seems nothing to tell. She
was so quiet, as I remember her, and so meek, and yet one felt quite
safe with her. I don't think she was afraid, as I was, but there was
something, something that made things uncertain. I can't explain."

"I expect she was too gentle at the beginning," Helen said. "She let him
have his own way and then she was never able to catch up, and all the
time--all the time she was thinking perhaps you were going to suffer
because she had made that mistake. And that would make her so anxious
not to make another, wouldn't it? And so--"

"And so it would go on. But how did you discover that?"

"Oh, I know some things," she said, and ended feebly, "about some
thi