“What could I do,—I who knew nothing to warrant a different conclusion,—what could I do but answer, ‘Yes.’ He believed me, the trustful, innocent child, clapping his hands for joy, while the picture on the wall, wholly wrapped in the summer sunshine, seemed one gleam of heavenly glory, as if the mother herself confirmed the answer given to her boy. He did not doubt me in the least, neither did I doubt myself; Anna was safe, whatever her sin might have been; whether the wife of one husband or six, like the woman of Samaria, she surely was forgiven. “Mrs. West had now returned, her face as calm and placid as ever, and her voice as low and sweet. “‘You have had a sad call, I fear,’ she said. ‘Richard would not like it if he knew how I had entertained you, but I’ll promise to do better next time, though I cannot talk of Anna. Some day perhaps, you may know all, but I would rather it should be Richard who tells you.’ “She kept associating me with Richard, and though the association was not distasteful, it puzzled me somewhat, making me wonder if he had ever told her much of me. “At that moment Mattie’s new cook, Mrs. Felton, appeared, curtseying with a great deal of humility to Mrs. West, who did not seem especially pleased to meet her. Still she greeted her kindly, and suffered her to caress Robin, whom she called a ‘precious lamb,’ a ‘poor, little, stunted rosy,’ and numerous other extravagant names. “‘I’m back to the old place,’ she said to Mrs. West, when through with Robin, ‘but my, such a change! ’Tain’t much such times as when you were there, I tell you. Then we had a head; now we’ve none.’ “Mrs. West stopped her at this point by asking me to come again, and saying she did not know Mrs. Randall or she would call on me. “‘You might make the first advance,’ I said. ‘You have surely lived here longer than Mrs. Randall.’ “‘Yes, I know,’ and her pale face flushed up to her soft grey hair. ‘But times have changed with me. I do not go out at all.’ “‘Come again,’ Robin said, as I turned towards him; ‘come again, lady; I likes you, cause you seem some like Papa Richard.’ “It grated harshly to hear the child say Papa Richard, and involuntarily I asked, ‘Why he did not say Uncle Richard? He is not your father,’ I added, while the child’s eyes grew big with wonder, as he replied: “‘Then where is my father, I’d like to know?’ “Mrs. Felton laughed a hateful, meaning laugh, and said: “‘Come, Miss Freeman, it’s time we were going.’ “With another good-by for Robin I shook Mrs. West’s proffered hand, and was soon out in the street with Mrs. Felton, who, when we were at a safe distance from the house, remarked in a very disagreeable tone: “‘The cutest thing you ever did was to tell that child not to call the doctor papa. I’d have broke him of it long before this. It don’t sound well, ’specially after all’s been said about Mr. Richard and Miss Anna.’