's crutch up beside her, and departed to purify the
henhouse door. As soon as she was safely out of the way, Salome took her
crutch, and limped slowly and painfully to the foot of the stairs. She
could not go up and comfort Lionel Hezekiah as she yearned to do,
which was the reason Judith had sent him up-stairs. Salome had not been
up-stairs for fifteen years. Neither did she dare to call him out on the
landing, lest Judith return. Besides, of course he must be punished; he
had been very naughty.

"But I wish I could smuggle a bit of supper up to him," she mused,
sitting down on the lowest step and listening. "I don't hear a sound. I
suppose he has cried himself to sleep, poor, dear baby. He certainly
is dreadfully mischievous; but it seems to me that it shows an
investigating turn of mind, and if it could only be directed into the
proper channels--I wish Judith would let me have a talk with Mr. Leonard
about Lionel Hezekiah. I wish Judith didn't hate ministers so. I don't
mind so much her not letting me go to church, because I'm so lame that
it would be painful anyhow; but I'd like to talk with Mr. Leonard now
and then about some things. I can never believe that Judith and father
were right; I am sure they were not. There is a God, and I'm afraid
it's terribly wicked not to go to church. But there, nothing short of a
miracle would convince Judith; so there is no use in thinking about it.
Yes, Lionel Hezekiah must have gone to sleep."

Salome pictured him so, with his long, curling lashes brushing his rosy,
tear-stained cheek and his chubby fists clasped tightly over his breast
as was his habit; her heart grew warm and thrilling with the maternity
the picture provoked.

A year previously Lionel Hezekiah's parents, Abner and Martha Smith, had
died, leaving a houseful of children and very little else. The children
were adopted into various Carmody families, and Salome Marsh had amazed
Judith by asking to be allowed to take the five-year-old "baby." At
first Judith had laughed at the idea; but, when she found that Salome
was in earnest, she yielded. Judith always gave Salome her own way
except on one point.

"If you want the child, I suppose you must have him," she said finally.
"I wish he had a civilized name, though. Hezekiah is bad, and Lionel is
worse; but the two in combination, and tacked on to Smith at that, is
something that only Martha Smith could have invented. Her judgment was
the same clear through, from se