"It's so _dull_," said Ann, looking discontentedly at the MS. "And you're not a dull woman, Mother! Rather a comic, really. See, read for yourself." Ann plumped the packet on to her mother's lap and retired to the fender-stool with the _Times_; but she could hardly have done justice to the leaders, for her eyes often wandered from the printed page to the expressive face of her mother reading her own _Life_. For half an hour Ann waited; then her patience gave out, and she leant forward and put her hand across the page. "That's enough, Mums. Surely you can tell me now how you think it goes." Mrs. Douglas smiled at her daughter. "Why did you do that? I'm enjoying it immensely, and----" "Oh, if anybody could find it interesting, you would; but don't you find it rather stilted?" "Not stilted exactly, but if you would write in a more homely way, it might be better. Take the reader more into your confidence. I'm not clever enough to explain quite what I mean; but I think you are writing from the outside, as it were. Try to be more--is subjective the word I want? And don't say too much about me. After all, my life was my husband and the children. Write about your father and the boys. Never were brothers more loved by a sister. As for Davie--you brought him up." Ann's eyes filled suddenly with tears, but in a minute she said lightly: "You see, Mother, Mr. Scott asks what I am working up to in this _Life_ of yours; how am I going to finish it, he wants to know. I hadn't thought of that. I was just going to leave loose ends--like life. I suppose there ought to be something--some idea that binds the whole thing together. Oh, it is all too difficult. I'd better burn all that I've written, and start again in an entirely new way. How would it do to put your life into scenes? The young girl in a royal blue silk dress and a locket and a black velvet ribbon, meeting her future husband. The wedding. A nursery scene--very effective this!--and then we might have scenes from your church life--you holding a Mothers' Meeting or a Girls' Club, or your first address to the Fellowship meeting. Do you remember you began (as you begin most things) with a deep sigh, and it sounded rather like _Hooch_, and Robbie said you reminded him of Harry Lauder?" Ann chuckled at the recollection, and her mother said: "No wonder I was nervous. It was a great ordeal to speak before you scoffing young things. No; I don't like the idea of 'scenes.' I prefer it as it is. How far are you on?" "I've got us all at school, and I was going to write about Davie being born. It was the summer after Rosamund died, wasn't it? I was at school when I got the news, and some of the girls condoled with me, and said a new baby in the house would be a dreadful nuisance, and I pretended to be bored by the prospect, when really I could hardly contain my excitement. I had to get home for a week-end to see him."