ouldn't a woman who hasn't children fill her
arms with the children who haven't mothers? Why shouldn't I mother our
orphan boys and girls?"

"I repeat: The subject is closed. And when the wedding is over, I don't
want the boys in here again."

Sue blinked guiltily. "But--er--hasn't Mr. Farvel told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Of--of his plan."

"Plan?"

"Oh, it's a splendid idea!"

"Really,"--with fine sarcasm.

"Every day, five orphans in to dinner."

Mrs. Milo was aghast. "Dinner? _Here_?"

"As Ikey says, 'Ve vill eat mit a napkins.'"

Mrs. Milo could not find words for the counter-arguing of such a
monstrous plan. "But,--but, Sue," she stammered; "they--they're
_natural_!"

A hearty laugh. "Natural, dear mother? I hope they are."

"You--know--what--I--mean."

"Well, I can't tell them from other children with the naked eye. And
they're just as dear and sweet, and just as human--if not a little more
so."

"You have your duty to the Rectory."

"But what's this Rectory here for? And the Church, too, for that matter?"

"For worship."

"And how better can we worship than----"

Seeing that she was losing out in the argument, Mrs. Milo now resorted to
personalities. "Darling," she said gently, "do you know that you're
contradicting your mother?"

"I'm sorry."

"The children are given food, clothes, and religious instruction."

"But not love!--Oh, mother, I must say it! We herd them out there in
that great building, just because their fathers and mothers didn't take
out a license to be parents!"

Shocked, Mrs. Milo stepped back. "My daughter!"

"Can we punish those poor little souls for that? And, oh, how they'd
relish a taste of home life!"

Her position decidedly weakened--and that before watchful Hattie--Mrs.
Milo adopted new tactics. "Of course, I have nothing to say," she began.
"I am only here because you hold this secretaryship. You don't have to
make me feel that I'm an intruder, Sue. I feel that sharply enough."
There was a trace of tears in her voice. "But even as an intruder, I
have a certain responsibility toward the Rectory--all the greater,
perhaps, because I'm a guest. Many a day I tire myself out attending to
duties that are not mine. And I do----" She interrupted herself to
point carpet-ward. "Please pick up that needle. Dora must have
overlooked it this morning. What is a needle doing in here? Thank you."
Then as she spied that mocking look in Hattie's