On the day after her interview with Mrs. North, Sheila went to confide her expectation of maternity to her grandmother. She found Mrs. Caldwell in her sitting-room, a peaceful, lonely figure, lifted, at last, above the stress and surge of life--and above all its sweet hazards, its young delight. She turned a pleased face to Sheila: "Dear! Ah, what would I do without my child?" At the words, Sheila's news rushed to her lips: "Grandmother--grandmother--_I_ am going to have a child!" And then she was on her knees, and her face was hidden against Mrs. Caldwell's breast. There was an instant of silence. Then: "How happy you and Ted must be!" murmured Mrs. Caldwell, "how happy!" And something in her tone touched Sheila more nearly than even her close-clinging arms, something that was at once joy for Sheila's joy and a measureless regret for herself. Suddenly the girl, trembling in the fold of those gentle old arms, realized how far behind her grandmother lay all youth's dear hopes and adventures. And she realized, too, that she herself held treasures in her hands--the treasures of youth and youth's warm love. After all, even if she must lay her work aside, she was happy. Youth and love were hers--youth and love! Nor was it only from her grandmother that she received confirmation of her fortunate estate. A few days later came Charlotte, to congratulate her upon Mrs. North's belief in her gift. "Alice North says that you have a wonderful future before you," she told Sheila glowingly. "I'm so glad for you!--so proud of you!" "Mrs. North said I had a future before me _if I did not have children_," corrected Sheila. "She thinks I can't be a writer and a mother, too." "Ah," remarked Charlotte reflectively, "then that _was_ why--" She paused a moment, leaving the significant sentence unfinished, and then went on more earnestly, "Sheila, she was wrong! Don't be persuaded to her views. She judged you by herself. Probably she couldn't be both writer and mother--she isn't really strong, you know. But that is not true for all women. Why, there have always been women who have done great things intellectually and had children, too! Don't be discouraged; don't let yourself believe that you need lose your art if you should have a child. You'd be all the finer artist for it. And--you are going to have a child, aren't you, Sheila?" Sheila had been passionately shy about her expectancy of motherhood, but the grave directness of Charlotte's inquiry disarmed her, and she answered as frankly and simply: "Yes, I am going to have a child." Charlotte looked at her with an expression new to the shrewd blue eyes that were habitually so cool and smiling. Then, with an impetuous and lovely gesture, she drew Sheila to her: "I'm so glad for you, dear!--so glad!"