"Yes," said Ann; "and in one corner stood a very tall basket for soiled clothes. I remember Robbie, after hearing of someone's marriage, coming to you and saying so earnestly, 'I'll stay with you always, Mums, and if anyone comes to marry me I'll hide in the dirty-clothes basket.'" Robbie's mother looked into the dancing flames. "That was always his promise," she said softly, "I'll stay with you always.... It wouldn't have been so bad beginning in a new place, with a new baby (and me so utterly new myself!) if Mark hadn't been so fragile. I daresay he suffered from my inexperience, I almost smothered him with wraps, and hardly dared let him out of the warm nursery, but he must have been naturally delicate as well. He got bronchitis on the smallest provocation, and my heart was perpetually in my mouth with the frights I got. I spent hours listening to his breathing and touching him to see if he felt hot, and I kept your father racing for the doctor until both he and the doctor struck. I was so wrapped up in my baby that I simply never turned my head to look at the congregation; but they understood and were patient. I really was very absurd. Some people gave a dinner-party for us, and your father said I simply must go. On the night of the party I was certain Mark was taking croup, and I could hardly be dragged from him to dress. I was determined that anyway I must be home in good time, and I ordered the cab to come back for us at a quarter to nine! We had hardly finished dinner when it was announced, but I rose at once to go. The hostess, astonished but kind, said on hearing my excuses, 'Ah, well, experience teaches.' 'Finish your proverb, Mrs. Smeaton,' my dinner neighbour (a clergyman from a neighbouring parish) broke in, 'Experience teaches fools.' Now I realise that the man was embittered--and little wonder!--by having tried to make conversation to me for a dreary hour, but at the moment I hated him. When we left Kirkcaple he and his wife were our greatest friends.... There were four houses in our road. The large one nearest the Den belonged to one of the linoleum people, we came next, and then there was a low, bungalow sort of house where the Mestons lived with their three little girls, and at the end of the road lived one of the elders in the church--Goskirk was the name--with his wife and eight sons. How they all got into that small house I know not, but it was always comfortable, and there was always a welcome, and Mrs. Goskirk was the busiest, happiest little woman in Kirkcaple, and a great stand-by to me. 'How's baby to-day?' she would come in saying, every word tilted up at the end as is the accent of Fife. As rich in experience as I was poor, she could soothe my fears and laugh at my forebodings. She prescribed simple, homely remedies and told me not to fuss. She gave me a new interest in life, and kept me happily engaged by teaching me how to make clothes for Mark. Her little boys trotted