gift to man, to be cherished when found, and fought for and held in the holy of holies of his own soul.

“He isn’t afraid, you see, David. How he stares at you! Does he feel it in his own little heart that you are his father? I have whispered it to him a thousand, thousand times. Sit here with him, David, and I’ll make you some tea.” She busied herself with the tea things — the old life beginning anew — with a new interest.

“I always make it just as you taught me that first day when I came up here so choked with trouble I couldn’t speak. You always brought me good, David.”

He saw as he watched her that some new and subtile charm had been added to her personality. Was it motherhood that had given it to