and the rough romping of the
children as they noisily trooped to bed. Her nerves quivered as she
listened to Mrs Harding shrilly droning the worn-out lullaby to the
sleepless Polly, and Lemuel demanding to have _Jack the Giant Killer_
told to him six times in succession. It seemed to her the life, in its
bare drudgery, had worn deep seams into her very soul, like country
roads in spring-time, whose surface is torn apart in gaping wounds and
unsightly ruts by heavy wheels and frost and rain.

She looked at her cousins with a feeling nearly akin to envy. Their
lives had no contrasts. Always this beautiful comradeship with father
and mother; and Aunt Rutha was so lovely--she stopped abruptly. She
would not change mothers. No, no, she would be loyal, even in thought,
to the pale, tired woman, whom she could remember kissing her
passionately in the twilight, while bitter tears rained on her childish,
upturned face. She would not let the demon of discontent spoil her
visit. She would put by and forget while she enjoyed this wonderful
slice of pleasure that had come to her. There was just as much greed in
her wanting happiness wholesale as in Lemuel's crying for the whole loaf
of gingerbread; the only difference was in the measure of their
capacity.

'What is it, dear?' asked Aunt Rutha, with an amused smile. 'You have
been in the brownest of studies.'

She looked up at her brightly.

'I believe it was a briar tangle, Aunt Rutha, of the worst kind; but I
shall see daylight soon, thank you.'

Mrs Davis laid her hand on her husband's arm.

'Your penknife, Robert. Our little girl here is tied up in a Gordian
knot, and we must help to set her free.'

Her uncle laughed as he opened the pearl-handled weapon.

'If good will can take the place of skill, I'll promise to cut no
arteries.' Then he added more gravely, 'But you have nothing more to do
with knots, my dear, of any kind. You belong to us now.'

They discussed her a little in kindly fashion after she had gone to her
room for the night.

'The child has the air of a princess,' said Mrs Davis thoughtfully. 'She
holds herself wonderfully, in spite of her rustic training, but I
suppose blood always tells'; and she looked over at her husband with a
smile.

'She has wonderful powers of adaptability, too,' said Gwendolyn. 'I
watched her at dinner, and she never made a single slip, although I
imagine there were several things that were new to her beside the
finger-glasse