threaded his hair with her soft
little fingers. She had such pretty ways with her mother. She didn't
seem ever to feel afraid.

Neither did the Deans. Of course they were all girls; but there were Ben
and Jim and, oh, Doctor Joe teased his mother, and was sweet to her, and
even kissed her, grown man that he was!

Charles could hardly decide which mother he liked the most, but he
thought Mrs. Dean. Mrs. Underhill sometimes scolded, though it never
seemed real earnest.

He felt more at home with the Deans. Perhaps this was because Mrs. Dean
had always coveted a boy, and, like a good many mothers, she wanted a
real nice, smart, refined boy. Charles was obedient and truthful, neat
and orderly, and always had his lessons "by heart." He was very proud
of his standing in school. He could talk lessons over with more freedom
to Mr. Dean than with his own father. And Josie was always so proud of
him. Perhaps the reason he liked the Deans so well was because he was
such a favourite with them, and appreciation seemed very sweet to the
boy who had so little in his life.

Mr. Dean seemed to think there was great danger of his growing up a
prig; but Mrs. Dean always took his part in any discussion. Mr. Dean was
very fond of having him over to sing; and Josie gave him her piano
lessons, only she kept a long way ahead.

Oh, how many, many times Charles had wished he was their son! There were
so many boys in the Underhill family, he was quite sure they couldn't
want any more.

But just now he felt curiously conscience-stricken, though greatly
confused. He supposed his mother _did_ want him, though she always
considered him so much trouble, and talked about her "working from
morning to night and getting no thanks for it." He had felt he would
like to thank her specially for some things, but ought he, _must_ he, be
grateful for the things he did not want and were only a trouble and
mortification to him? And was it wicked to wish for some other mother?

He would try not to do it again. He might think of Mrs. Dean as his
aunt, and the girls his cousins. And he would endeavour with all his
might to love his own mother.

Years afterward, he came to know how great an influence this hour had on
him in moulding his character. But he did not realise how long he had
dreamed until he heard Cousin Jane's brisk voice,--it was not a cross or
complaining voice,--saying:--

"Why, Charles, here in the dark! Well, we have had a pretty severe tim