and said to her, smiling, in that lovely voice,

"Well, Sara, you see the children are here. Aren't they nice?"

And once more Sara could find no words to express their niceness. And
she could no more have described them to you than if they had been so
many endearing young charms. But one of the queerest, prettiest things
she was sure about: their faces were all dimples! Moreover, they were
much more becoming to them than ordinary features would have been.

"How old are they?" asked Sara, in the most delighted bewilderment.
The friendly little things fluttered and chattered and chirruped
around her in the most distracting way, brushing her face with their
wings in their eagerness to get acquainted, and even getting their
silver sandals tangled in her hair.

"Well," said Avrillia with great exactitude--Sara had already
discovered that Avrillia had a weakness for being considered
practical--"fourteen of them are six and three of them are two and
thirty are seven and ten are nine, and five are six months."

"My!" said Sara, in doubt and wonder. And right there she had a
suspicion that that was one reason she had loved Avrillia from the
first: she couldn't do arithmetic! To be sure, Sara herself couldn't
add all that mixture in her head--at least not with all those lovely
children about--but it sounded like a great deal more than seventy;
and there certainly looked to be a million. So, as she stood and gazed,
she said, more in wonder than with any idea of correcting Avrillia,
"And you said there were just seventy?"