r, and beat her head against the wall of
her bedroom until she fell senseless. And indeed it was true that
Justice, the light woman, had again been brought to bed of a
miscarriage. But who was to believe that, when Justice's whole family
and her doctor gave out that the child was clean-run and full time? If
any believed there were not many. The Poor Boy was a poor boy, indeed,
and it seemed to him (trying so very hard not to go mad) that his life
was all over.

As a matter of fact, it was getting ready at last to begin.

II

One day old Martha received the following letter:

"MARTHA, DEARIE: I didn't do it. But only you believe that, and I.
You will go to Joyous Guard, for love of me, and put the cottage in
order. I shall live there when I come out, and you shall take care
of me. But are you too old? Can you do the cooking and the
housework for us two? It's I that will split the wood and carry the
coals. If the work is too heavy, dearie, you must choose some one
to help you. Some one who will never come where I am, whom I shall
never have to look in the face. For it's you only that I can look
in the face now, or bear to have look in mine. My more than mother,
God bless you, and believe me always, with all my love, your

"POOR BOY."

"Choose some one to help her!" Old Martha snorted. "Not if I was dead in
my coffin and him wantin' only me," she said, "I'd rise up and boil my
lamb's eggs for him."

But it was not alone that she sped northward to that great valley in the
mountains, which the Poor Boy had called Joyous Guard, after Launcelot's
domain. She took with her the Poor Boy's butler, a man of rare executive
ability, and a young architect for whom the Poor Boy had had belief and
affection. These three camped out in the cottage, and sent forth
electric messages to plumbers, and upholsterers, and cabinet-makers. If
her boy was to live in a tiny stone cottage, old Martha would see to it
that that cottage should be a gem. She could spend what she pleased. She
had been paid no wages since the Poor Boy's coming of age. Bonds with
gilt edges were given to her on that day, deeds to two houses in which
gentlefolk lived, and at all the stores where the Poor Boy had credit
she had credit, just as his own mother would have had. She was a rich
woman in her own right. And the young architect knew that, and i