The man's eyes lingered on the scene, feeling that, for all her magnificently human body, no angel ever made a fairer vision. He was struck with the silence of these children. As he looked closer it was only too plain they were not children. They were only little wizen-faced men and women, who had never learned to laugh or smile or play; little pinched faces with weak eyes that had never seen God's green fields; little dirty ears that had been bruised with a thousand beastly noises, but had never heard the murmur of beautiful waters in the depths of a forest. His heart went out to them in a great yearning pity as he recalled his own enchanted childhood. His voice was soft with tears as he greeted Kate. "A more pathetic sight than this crowd of silent children old earth never saw. But the shining figure in the centre lights the shadows with a touch of divine beauty." "It does break one's heart to see such children, doesn't it?" she answered, looking at them tenderly and ignoring his pointed tribute to her beauty. "Are we all ready?" Gordon cried. "If you are. Is Mrs. Gordon not coming?" "No; I couldn't persuade her. She took our chicks to the seashore." As the boat moved swiftly up the great river in the fresh morning air and the breeze blowing down its channel strengthened, they sat together on the after deck and watched the dead souls of the little ones stir with life under the kiss of the wind and the caress of the music. In the park they spread out in the whispering stillness of the woods. Nature breathed the sweet breath of her life into their hearts again and they began to twist their queer little faces and try to laugh. They called to one another and listened with mute wonder at the echo among the rock-ribbed hills. Gordon watched curiously in their faces the flash of the inherited memory of forest habits, choked and stunted and dormant in all city folks, and yet alive as long as the human heart beats. Within two hours they had grown noisy with play after a timid, clumsy fashion. "Give them a week and they would learn to laugh!" Kate exclaimed. But the man was now more interested in watching the woman than the children, as he saw her satin skin flush with pleasure and the creamy lace on her full bosom rise and fall. They sat down on a rock beside a brook. "What an inspiration to see this old yet ever new miracle of regeneration unfold under the magic touch of a woman's hand!" "You mean a man's hand," she replied. "This would never have interested me except that you led me to see it." "Then we've helped one another. I'm beginning to feel you are indispensable. I wonder if you, too, will leave us after awhile as so many pass on." "No; this has become my very life," she soberly answered, looking down at the ground and then into his face with frank, open-eyed pleasure. He was silent for several minutes and then softly laughed. "What is it?" she cried. "You could never guess."