“But, Netherby,” she said simply, “I thought everyone had known suffering.” “No, thank God,” said he. “Only women?” she asked. “No--it isn’t a matter of man or woman. Only God’s aristocracy are crucified,” he said. “Only a few suffer so.” She looked into the beyond; a smile ran round the serious little lips: “I _am_ glad to hear that,” she said. And she added after a while: “I shall sleep better now.” Netherby turned in his chair and looked at the child solemnly: “Come here, little woman,” he said. She came to him, with her light walk, a dainty lank child, wrought of the finest fibre. Me held out his two hands, and she put a slender little hand in each. “Betty,” he asked, “who have you heard say these things?” “No one,” she said simply--“I just feel them so.” Netherby stroked her head: “One of these days, Betty, the world will listen to you. But don’t trouble about things until you are grown up--just enjoy your life now. Noll, Betty is too much indoors. She must get out into the fresh air of the world--she must study nature--we must take her to the theatre.” Betty’s eyes sparkled: “I’ve never been to a theatre,” she said, her nerves dancing. “Then we’ll go to a pit to-morrow night, Noll, eh? all three of us.” When Betty and Noll with Netherby descended the stairs, the door of the old lady’s sitting-room was open. Betty turned and walked in--stepped lightly to the side of the old woman where she sat before the fire in her armchair, her old watchful eyes fixed on the open door, and the child leaned forward and kissed her withered old cheek: “I love you,” she said, “because you love Netherby; and you have his big kind eyes.” The old lady put out her old hand and stroked the child’s head: “But you are leaving Master Noll sadly out in the cold, my little lady,” she said. Betty turned and looked at Noll: “Oh no,” said she--“I love him in quite a different way.” The old lady laughed. The next morning being Betty’s birthday, she found at her door a sheet of stiff brown paper on which was fixed the print of “The Sower,” the whole set in a battered old picture-frame of Noll’s. It was the first birthday gift she had ever had--as long as she could remember.... The evening of her twelfth birthday Betty spent in the pit of a theatre.