Such division must always be a little sad, but mutual love and mutual respect made them in this case a positive gain. There were no arguments, but each learned to see and admire what was good in the other’s view, to hold stanchly to what was deemed right, and to live in that love which practically nullifies all petty divisions and differences. “And so I hear that you want to be mothering those little children over the way,” said Mr. Boniface, when the piece was ended. Cecil crossed the room and stood beside him. “What do you think about it, father?” she asked. “I think that before you decide you must realize that it will be a great responsibility.” “I have thought of that,” she said. “And of course there is the expense to be thought of.” “Never mind about the expense; I will undertake that part of the matter if you will undertake the responsibility. Do you quite realize that even pretty little children are sometimes cross and naughty and ill?” She laughed. “Yes, yes; I have seen those children in all aspects, and they are rather spoiled. But I can’t bear to think that they will be sent to some great institution, with no one to care for them properly.” “Then you are willing to undertake your share of the bargain?” “Quite.” “Very well, then, that is settled. Let us come across and see if any one has stepped in before us.” Cecil, in great excitement, flew upstairs to tell her mother, and reappeared in a minute or two in her hat and jacket. Then the father and daughter crossed the quiet suburban road to the opposite house, where such a different life-story had been lived. The door was opened to them by the nurse; she had evidently been crying, and even as they entered the passage they seemed conscious of the desolation of the whole atmosphere. “Oh, miss, have you heard the verdict?” said the servant, who knew Cecil slightly, and was eager for sympathy. “And what’s to become of my little ones no one seems to know.” “That is just what we came to inquire about,” said Mr. Boniface, “We heard there were no relations to take charge of them. Is that true?” “There’s not a creature in the world to care for them, sir,” said the nurse. “There’s the lawyer looking through master’s papers now, sir, and he says we must be out of this by next week, and that he must look up some sort of school where they’ll take them cheap. A school for them little bits of things, sir, isn’t it enough to break one’s heart? And little Miss Gwen so delicate, and only a lawyer to choose it, one as knows nothing but about parchments and red tape, sir, and hasn’t so much as handled a child in his life, I’ll be bound.” “If Mr. Grantley’s solicitor is here I should like to speak to him for a minute,” said Mr. Boniface. “I’ll be with you again before long, Cecil; perhaps you could see the children.”