't like you out
after dark."

"I know it, Ma," the boy responded penitently. "I'm mighty sorry. I'd
no idea, though, that it was so late."

"Where've you been?"

"To walk."

"To walk? Just to walk? Mercy on us! Not just walking round for
nothing!"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

"Who was with you?"

"Nobody."

For an instant Mrs. McGregor looked searchingly at her son.

"Well, did you ever hear the like of that!" commented she, addressing
the younger children who clustered about their brother with curiosity.
"What set you to go walking?"

"I don't know, Ma. Just a freak, I guess."

"A foolish freak--worrying the whole family, delaying supper, and what
not. Now come and eat your porridge without more delay. Mary, go bring
the milk; and, Timmie, you fetch a clean saucer from the pantry.
Martin, stop pestering your brother until he eats something; he'll play
with you and Nell by and by. Such a noisy lot of bairns as you are! If
you're not careful you'll wake James Frederick."

Nevertheless, in spite of her grumbling, the mother regarded her brood
of clamoring youngsters with affectionate pride. They were indeed a
husky group, red-cheeked, high-spirited, and happy; their chatter, as
she well knew, was nothing more than the normal exuberance of
childhood.

While Carl hungrily devoured his big bowlful of cereal his mother
continued her sewing. She was working on a film of blue material
a-glitter with silver beads that twinkled from its folds like stars.
Every now and then little Nell, fascinated by the sparkle of the
fabric, would start toward the corner where her mother sat in the ring
of brilliant lamplight.

Instantly one of the older brothers or sisters would intercept the
child, catching up the wriggling mite and explaining softly:

"No, dearie, no! Nell must not trouble mother. Mother's working."

It was an old, oft-repeated formula which every one of the little group
had heard from the time he had been able to toddle. Familiar, too, was
the picture of their mother seated in the circle of light, her basket
of gayly hued spools beside her, and a cloud of shimmering splendor
wreathing her feet. Sometimes this glory was pink; sometimes it was
blue, lavender, or yellow; not infrequently it was black or a smoky
mist of gray. The children always delighted in the brighter colors,
crowding round with eagerness whenever a new gown was brought home to
see what hue the exciting parcel might contain.

"Oh, nothing