"Miss Proudfit, you shall arbitrate! Somebody left him to this lady and me--or to anybody like, or unlike us--on the train. Shall we find his own mother that has run away from him? Or shall we send him to an institution? Or shall we keep him? Which way," he says, smiling, "is the way that _is_ the way?" She looked up at him as if she knew, clear inside his words, what he was talking about. "Are you," she ask' him, half merry, but all in earnest too, "are you going to decide with your heart or your head?" "Why, with my soul, I hope," says the Brother-man, simple. Miss Clementina nodded a little, and I saw her face all Summer-soft as she answered him. "Then," she said, "almost nobody will tell you so, but--there's only one way." "I know it," says he, gentle. "I know it," says I, solemn. We three stood looking at each other from close on the same star, knowing all over us that if you decide a thing with your head you'll probably shift a burden off; if you decide with your heart you'll probably give, give, give, like Madame Proudfit does, to pay somebody else liberal to take the burden; but if you decide it with your soul, you give your own self to whatever is going on. And you know that's the way that _is_ the way. All of a sudden, as if words that were not being said had got loose and were saying themselves anyway, the music--that had been tip-tapping along all the while since we came--started in, sudden and beautiful, with the Piano Lady and the Violin Man playing up there in the landing room. I don't know whether it was a lullaby--though I shouldn't be surprised if it was, because I think sometimes in this world things happen just like they were being stage-managed by somebody that knows. But anyway--oh, it had a lullaby sound, a kind-of rocking, tender, just-you-and-me meaning; that ain't so very far from the you-and-me-and-all-of-us meaning when they're both said right and deep down. I looked up at Miss Clementina and the Brother-man--as you do look up when some nice little thing has happened that you think whoever you're with will understand. But they didn't look back at me. They looked over to each other. They looked over to each other, swift at the first, but lasting long, and with the faces of both of them softening to Summer. And the music went heavenly-ing on, into the room, and into living, and into everything, and it was as if the whole minute was turned into its own spirit and then was said out in a sound.