My grandmother’s poignant rendering of “_Where’s Mummie?_” no doubt contained all the pathetic appeal of bewildered and deserted childhood throughout the ages.... But mine--the original “_Where’s Mummie?_...” I have no recollection of it, of course, but I do remember myself at four years old--a stolid, rather cynical child, utterly independent by temperament, and reacting strongly even then against a perpetually emotional atmosphere. And one knows the way in which small children utter those conventional enquiries which they unconsciously know to be expected of them ... the soft, impersonal indifference of the tone, the immediate re-absorption, without waiting for a reply, in the engrossing occupation of the moment.... Mary held out for a little while longer, but the heart went out of her resistance after the pitiful sound of that “_Where’s Mummie?_” as my grandmother rendered it. She gave in “for the boy’s sake.” And my grandmother had justified her existence. They travelled home together, and Mary averted anti-climax by quite a real nervous breakdown, that overtook her after she got home, before my father had had time to forgive her in so many words. So they began again--literally. It wasn’t, in fact, possible for them to be happy together, and they never were so. I grew up in the midst of scenes, tears, and intermittent periods of reconciliation. There was no stability about my childhood; and no reality. Undoubtedly I was the victim--far more so than my father, who presently sought and found consolation elsewhere, or than Mary, whom he thus provided with a perfectly legitimate grievance that lasted her until he died, fifteen years later. After that, she was able gradually to forget that there had ever been unhappiness between them, and to assume the identity of a heart-broken widow. Mrs. St. Luth, my grandmother, lived to be very old. “But useless old woman though I am, God gave me the opportunity of justifying my existence, when He let me bring a mother home to her little child....” I wonder. * * * * * Thank god, I’m a modern. THE FIRST STONE THE FIRST STONE A PLAY IN ONE ACT _Characters_: MRS. LLOYD-EVANS } _Members of the local Welfare MRS. BALLANTYNE } Committee_ MRS. AKERS } MISS MILLER _Secretary to the Committee._ SCENE _A committee-room on the top floor of a house in a small provincial town. Back of the stage, centre, there is a door, opening inwards on to the stage. To the right of the door, a few pegs are on the wall for hanging coats, etc. Right of the stage, is a good-sized window, showing distant views of chimney-pots outside. Left of the stage, a small gas-fire burns. Near it, a table and chairs have been formally arranged for the meeting._ _The whole atmosphere of the room is cold and dreary. Time: a winter afternoon in 1917._ _Miss Miller discovered. She is cold and tired-looking, mechanically arranging blotting-paper, etc. on the table._