"And now she's come!"

"Well? Go on."

"Stormfield, maybe she hasn't found the child, but _I_ think she
has. Looks so to me. I've seen cases before. You see, she's kept
that child in her head just the same as it was when she jounced it
in her arms a little chubby thing. But here it didn't elect to
STAY a child. No, it elected to grow up, which it did. And in
these twenty-seven years it has learned all the deep scientific
learning there is to learn, and is studying and studying and
learning and learning more and more, all the time, and don't give a
damn for anything BUT learning; just learning, and discussing
gigantic problems with people like herself."

"Well?"

"Stormfield, don't you see? Her mother knows CRANBERRIES, and how
to tend them, and pick them, and put them up, and market them; and
not another blamed thing! Her and her daughter can't be any more
company for each other NOW than mud turtle and bird o' paradise.
Poor thing, she was looking for a baby to jounce; _I_ think she's
struck a disapp'intment."

"Sandy, what will they do--stay unhappy forever in heaven?"

"No, they'll come together and get adjusted by and by. But not
this year, and not next. By and by."