"Quite happy, Jean?" asked Blair, as he came up quietly and sat down beside her, where the sweet water ran into the salt, and the small waves of the lagoon creamed softly up the white sand. [Illustration: "Quite happy, Jean?" asked Blair] "Happy, dear? Could any one possibly be happier? Look at that!"--Master Kenni-Kenni rolling gleefully on a white spread at her feet in a state of nudity, and gurgling paroxysms of happiness. "He's a fine little fellow"--and he poked his son playfully in his fat little stomach, provoking fat-creased laughter and dimples and more gurgles. "He's the finest little fellow in the whole world, and he's yours and mine, Ken. God has been very good to us, dear. I sometimes feel as if we had no right to be quite so happy while----" "While?" "One can't help thinking of the poor little souls in the slums and alleys at home. It really doesn't seem right, somehow. If we could only bring them all out here----" "I wish it were possible, but it isn't. Meanwhile, this is our chosen work, and by God's grace it seems like to prosper. I am very grateful that you are content here, dear. After London----" "London! I'd give the whole of London for one curl of Kenni-Kenni's hair. Isn't it beautiful? There never was any silk like it in this world." "Never!" said Blair with conviction. Then Alison Evans and Mary Stuart came across to them, Mary carrying Alivani. "We have come to worship too," said Alison. "I wish you'd order Mary to give me my baby, Mr. Blair. I can hardly get touching her when she's about." "Well, Jean won't let me have hers," laughed Mary in self-defence. "Jean was just valuing the whole of London Town against one curl of that young man's hair. So you see what the whole of him's worth, Mary. Oh yes, you may touch him, if you'll promise not to spoil a hair of his head." Mary laid Alivani down on the white spread by Kenni-Kenni, and the two gurgled and kicked in company, while she knelt over them with absorbed face and happy lights in her eyes. "Jean was wishing she could bring all the poor children in London to kick on the beach here," said Blair. "Yes. I often think how very much better off the children here are," said Alison Evans. "In some respects." "In all respects, I'm inclined to think. Their fathers and mothers almost worship them. Cruelty to children is unheard of. Bodily they are miles ahead----" "And morally and spiritually?" he said, to draw her on. "I have seen children at home, in Glasgow and Edinburgh, almost as benighted as these, and not half so pleasant to deal with. Now, with the chances we are giving them, I think these are infinitely the better off."