“It would hurt my eyes, but I could have the blinds raised. Would he be all right then?” Anna couldn’t say that he would. She looked at Mrs. Langley pleadingly. “You think he would still be afraid of me?” “Why, he might be afraid of--the memory of you,” the girl said reluctantly. “If you looked like--the lady he saw in the dark room that made him cry, he might, I suppose----” But the girl stopped short. No, he mightn’t. Not for all the world would she subject that baby to the danger of a second fright. “You think I ought to wear something light and pretty?” Mrs. Langley asked almost humbly. “It would be nice if you should,” Anna returned in noncommittal fashion. “But if you did, you would have to fix your hair in some other way. Having it drawn back so tight wouldn’t go with a nifty dress. Perhaps you could have it a bit looser about your face?” Anna didn’t know what possessed her. She had almost said _phiz_. And something within her added that _mug_ wouldn’t be bad. As she thought of a dainty, light gown and soft hair about that ugly yellow face, she had an hysterical impulse to laugh or to burst into tears. “Perhaps he’d like it frizzed?” suggested Mrs. Langley. And then Anna laughed out naturally. “O Mrs. Langley, one would think Joe, Junior, was royalty!” she exclaimed. And then she wanted to cry. _Frizzes_ about that face! “You’re not well enough anyhow to bother about curl papers. Soft and loose would be just as well,” she murmured with a deepening sense of guilt. She had grown so used to Mrs. Langley that she had forgotten her ugliness until Saturday had impressed it forcibly upon her. She said to herself it was wicked to talk against time as she was. Could that harsh-looking hair ever look smooth? And anyhow, she knew she would never venture to bring the baby hither again. Mrs. Langley was staring at her. “I suppose he likes your hair, Anna?” she asked with something like craving in her voice. “Rather. He’s stuck on anything yellow. He clutches at the sunshine and he reached for Mr. Langley’s watch.” “If I will have Bell put the blinds up as far as they will go, will you bring him again on Saturday afternoon, Anna?” Mrs. Langley asked almost eagerly, and added, “You’ll have to come early to catch the sunshine, for there isn’t any after the middle of the afternoon.” “O but Mrs. Langley, you could never stand the strong sunlight all at once. Your poor eyes! You must let it in little by little!” protested the girl. Mrs. Langley looked hard at her. “Anna Miller! You have made up your mind you won’t bring him,” she declared. “I don’t want him to cry again. Neither do you; so it’s partly for your sake,” Anna declared. “But you said he wouldn’t cry if I did all that?” Anna remained silent. “You did say so?” “Not exactly that. I’m awfully sorry, but I’m afraid that even after all that it wouldn’t go.” “What do you mean?” “I really can’t tell. I’m not sure that I know. But I will come myself just the same.”