talking not only to inform the women, but with
a deeper purpose, conceived since his morning
walk, and deepened as he had followed, during his
narrative, the changing expression of Rena's face
and noted her intense interest in his story, her
pride in his successes, and the occasional wistful
look that indexed her self-pity so completely.

"An' I s'pose you're happy, John?" asked his
mother.

"Well, mother, happiness is a relative term,
and depends, I imagine, upon how nearly we think
we get what we think we want. I have had my
chance and haven't thrown it away, and I suppose
I ought to be happy. But then, I have lost my
wife, whom I loved very dearly, and who loved me
just as much, and I'm troubled about my child."

"Why?" they demanded. "Is there anything
the matter with him?"

"No, not exactly. He's well enough, as babies
go, and has a good enough nurse, as nurses go.
But the nurse is ignorant, and not always careful.
A child needs some woman of its own blood to love
it and look after it intelligently."

Mis' Molly's eyes were filled with tearful yearning.
She would have given all the world to warm