"Mother," said Ann one evening, "do you realise that we are not getting on at all well with your _Life_? Marget has developed this passion for coming in and recalling absurd things--last night she wasted the whole evening with the tale of her grandfather's encounter with a bull; racy, I admit, but not relevant, and the night before she set me recalling mad escapades of our childhood, and I didn't write a word. Where we are, I don't know, but there are only three of us born--Mark and me and Robbie. Jim has got to be worked in somewhere--and Rosamund. We were all at Etterick recovering from whooping-cough when Jim was born, so I don't remember much about him, but Rosamund's coming was a wonderful event. She was my birthday present when I was eight." "In some ways Jim was the nicest of the babies," Mrs. Douglas said. "He was so pretty and sweet-tempered--quite a show child. Whenever we said, 'Sing, Jim,' he dropped on to the floor and began 'Lord, a little band and lowly,' and he was no age at all." Ann laughed a sceptical laugh. "He ceased at an early age his efforts to entertain; he has no use for company now. I suppose it might be a reaction from his precocious childhood. But he still has the good nature." "Indeed he has," said Jim's mother fervently. "The Fife people had a saying 'born for a blessing,' and Jim has been that. Rosamund"--she paused for a moment, then continued--"Rosamund was the most lovely child I ever saw. No, it wasn't because I was her mother, unprejudiced people said the same. I think, perhaps, it was the happiest time in my life, those weeks after Rosamund came. Not that I hadn't always been happy, but the years before had been rather a mêlée. Now I had found my feet, more or less, and church work and housekeeping and baby rearing no longer appalled me. It was in March she was born. We had got all the spring cleaning done well beforehand, and the Deacons' Court had papered and painted the stairs and lobbies, and we had afforded ourselves new stair and landing carpets, and the house was as fresh as it's possible for a house to be. I lay there with my baby, so utterly contented, listening to the voices of you and the boys playing in the garden in the spring sunlight, with pleasant thoughts going through my mind about my healthy, happy children and a smooth running church, and thanking God for the best man that ever woman had. And all the kind people came flocking to see the new baby. Mrs. Dewar came with a dainty frock made by herself and an armful of books and magazines. These are George's choosing,' she said, 'and he says you will enjoy them all. I think myself they look rather dull, so I've brought you one of Annie Swan's--she's _capital_ for a confinement.' And Mrs. Peat sat by the fire with Rosamund on her knee and said, 'Eh, my dear, she's a beauty,' and blessed her. And you children came running in with celandines from the Den, and grubby treasures which you