Truedale tossed her a new check book. "Now that you see there is no string tied to it," he said, "may I ask what for? Just sympathetic interest, you know." "Of course. Well, it's this way. Betty and I are broke. It's fine for you to make roads and build schools and equip the youth of America for getting all the learning they can carry, but Betty and I are after the babies. We've been agonizing over the Saxe Home--Betty's on the Board--and before Christmas we are going to undress all those poor standardized infants and start their cropped hair to growing." Truedale laughed heartily. "Intimacy with Betty," he said, "has coloured your descriptive powers, Lyn, dear." "Oh, all happy women talk one tongue." "And you _are_ happy, Lyn?" "Happy? Yes--happy, Con!" They smiled at each other across the broad table. "Betty has told the superintendent that if there is a blue stripe or a cropped head on December twenty-fourth, she's going to recommend the dismissal of the present staff." "Good Lord! Does any one ever take Betty seriously? I should think one of those board meetings would bear a strong family resemblance to an afternoon tea--rather a frivolous one." "They don't. And, honestly, people are tremendously afraid of Betty. She makes them laugh, but they know she gets what she wants--and with a joke she drives her truths home." "There's something in that." Truedale looked earnest. "She's a great Betty." "So it's up to Betty and me, now," Lynda went on. "We can take off the shabby, faded little duds, but we've got to have something to put on at once, or the kiddies will take cold." "Surely." "We think that to start a child out in stripes is almost as bad as finishing him in them. To make a child feel--different--is sure to damn him." "And so you are going to make the Saxe Home an example and set the ball rolling." "Exactly, Con. And we're going to slam the door in the faces of the dramatic rich this Christmas. The lambies at the Saxe are going to have a nice, old-fashioned tree. They are going to dress it themselves the night before, and whisper up the chimney what they want--and there is not going to be a speech on Christmas Day within a mile of that Home!" "That's great. I'd like to come in on that myself." "You can, Con, we'll need you." "Christmas always does set the children in one's thoughts, doesn't it? I suppose Betty is particularly keen--having had her baby for a day or so." Truedale's eyes were tender. Betty's baby and its fulfilled mission were sacred to him and Lynda. "Betty is going to adopt a child, Con." "Really?" "Yes. She says she cannot stand Christmas without one. It's a rebuke to--to her boy." "Poor little Bet!"