’with what measure ye mete.’“

Cissy sobbed for a few minutes in Valancy’s arms. Then she wiped her eyes.

“Well, that’s almost all. I came home. I wasn’t really so very unhappy. I suppose I should have been — but I wasn’t. Father wasn’t hard on me. And my baby was so sweet, Valancy — with such lovely blue eyes — and little rings of pale gold hair like silk floss — and tiny dimpled hands. I used to bite his satin-smooth little face all over — softly, so as not to hurt him, you know — ”

“I know,” said Valancy, wincing. “I know — a woman always knows — and dreams — ”

“And he was all mine. Nobody else had any claim on him. When he died, oh, Valancy, I thought I must die too —