She said it was because she made all her father's shirts when she was six years old! We promised we wouldn't! "And now," said the Blinded Lady, "I'd like to have the Little Dumb Boy come forward and stand at my knee so I can touch his face!" Carol didn't exactly like to be called the Little Dumb Boy, but he came forward very politely and stood at the Blinded Lady's knee. The Blinded Lady ran her fingers all up and down his face. It tickled his nose. He looked puckered. "It's a pleasant face!" said the Blinded Lady. "We like it!" said my Father. "Oh _very_ much!" said my Mother. "Has he always been dumb?" said the Blinded Lady. "Always," said my Mother. "But never deaf!" "Oh _Tush_!" said the Blinded Lady. "Don't be stuffy! Afflictions were meant to talk about!" "But Carol, you see," said my Mother, "can't talk about his! So _we_ don't!" "Oh--_Tush_!" said the Blinded Lady. She pushed Carol away. She thumped her cane on the braided rug. "There's one here, isn't there," she said, "that hasn't got anything to be sensitive about? Let the Young Lassie come forward," she said, "so I can touch her face!" It made Rosalee very pink to have her face explored. The Blinded Lady laughed as she explored it. "Ha!" she said. "Age about seventeen? Gold hair? Sky-blue eyes? Complexion like peaches and cream?--Not much cause here," laughed the Blinded Lady, "for this Young Lassie ever to worry when she looks in the glass!" "Oh but she does!" I cried. "She worries herself most to death every time she looks!--She's afraid her hair will turn gray before Derry comes!" "S-s-h!" said everybody. The Blinded Lady cocked her head. She ruffled herself. It looked like feathers. "Derry?" said the Blinded Lady. "Who's Derry?--A _beau_?" My Father gruffed his throat. "Oh Derry's just a young friend of ours," he said. "He lives in Cuba," said my Mother. "Cuba's an island!" I said. "It floats in water! They eat bananas! They have fights! It's very hot! There's lots of moonlight! Derry's father says that when Rosalee's married he'll build a----." "Hush, Ruthy!" said my Father. "You've talked quite enough already!" The Blinded Lady patted her skirts. They billowed all around her like black silk waves. It looked funny. "H-m-m-mmm!" she said. "Let the Child-Who's-Talked-Too-Much-Already come forward now so that I can feel her face!" I went forward just as fast as I could. The Blinded Lady touched my forehead. She smoothed my nose,--my cheeks,--my chin. "U-m-mmm," she said. "And 'Ruthy' you say is what you call her?" My Father twinkled his eyes. "We have to call her something!" he said politely. "And is this bump on the forehead a natural one?" said the Blinded Lady. "Or an accidental one?" "Both!" said my Father. "That is, it's pre-em-i-nently natural for our daughter Ruthy to have an accidental bump on her forehead." "And there are, I infer," said the Blinded Lady, "one or two freckles on either side of the nose?"