Grandmother was sitting in a low rocking-chair, with the baby in her arms, bending over it with eyes of worship. “Hush, Annie!” she said softly. “Come and see a piece of heaven!” Anne thought the heaven was in Grandmother’s face; she never saw, she said, such an angel look. She came nearer, and looked at the tiny creature nestling in its blankets. One little pink fist was waving feebly. Grandmother lifted it and laid it against her cheek. “Little velvet rose-leaf!” she murmured. “Look, Anne! see the perfectness of this! The little pink pearls of nails, the tiny precious thumbkin. Oh, wonderful, wonderful! How good God is, to let us begin in this heavenly way. How can we ever be anything but good and lovely, when we begin like this?” “Some of us can’t,” said little Anne shyly. “She is a darling, Grandmother. Has Rachel seen her?” A shade passed over Grandmother’s rapt face. “Not yet!” she said. “She ought to. If you see your mother, Anne, you might tell her that baby is washed and dressed. Darling, your gown should be made of white rose-leaves, shouldn’t it? and you the little blush-rose heart? Oh, little piece of heaven, how could they let you go?” Anne stole away; looking back at the door, she saw that Grandmother had forgotten her and all the world except the child; again it seemed Mary that she was looking at; Mary in adoration, as she had seen her in an old engraving. [Illustration: “GRANDMOTHER HAD FORGOTTEN ALL THE WORLD EXCEPT THE CHILD.”] With the awe and wonder of this still on her, she crept along the passage, past the door of Rachel’s room, which stood ajar. A fretful voice was speaking. “No, I don’t want to see it. I never wanted any at all, but if I had to have one I wanted a boy; I don’t want a girl. I won’t bother with it. It’s hard enough to have to be one, and go through what I’ve been through—and then to have a girl! it ain’t fair; it’s real mean!” An angry sob followed, and Mother Peace’s calm voice was heard. “You want to be quiet now, Rachel, and try to get a nap. You’ll feel different when you’ve seen your baby. Shut your eyes now and mebbe you’ll drop off, while I go and get you some gruel.” “I hate gruel!” said Rachel; “I won’t touch it, Mis’ Peace, I tell you!” Mother Peace came out quietly and drew the door to. Seeing Anne she nodded, and beckoned her to follow down-stairs, but did not speak till she had gained the kitchen. “Anne,” she said. “You needn’t tell me. There’s mistakes made up yonder sometimes same as other places; maybe some of the angels is young and careless. But that baby’ll soon find out who its real mother is, you see if it don’t.” “Why, Mother Peace,” said Anne, “how you talk!” “Some one has to talk!” said her mother kindly. “You are little better than a dumb image, Anne, when a person wants to free her mind. You might stir this gruel if you’ve a mind to, while I go up and take a look at those two lambs, and I don’t mean Rachel Merion by neither one of ‘em.”