a spot of color as it grows darker. Please, dear Miss Jenkins, let me
keep the baby!"

Of course I was weak enough to give in. Jane made her bargain and for a
month the little stray stayed with us. Then one glorious dawn the tiny
creature smiled as only a baby can, and gave up the struggle. In a
corner of the garden, where the pigeons are ever cooing, we made a small
mound.

To this good day Ishi declares the children's god Jizo comes every night
to take the child away, but cannot because it lies in a Christian grave,
and that is why he keeps the spot smothered in flowers.

Not in the least discouraged by death or desertion of her protégés, Jane
Gray continued to bring things home, and one day she burst into the room
calling, "Oh, Jenkins San! Come quick! See what I have found."

Her find proved to be a youthful American about twenty-four, whom she
introduced as Page Hanaford.

From the moment the tall young man stood before me, hat in hand, a
wistful something in his gray eyes, I had to crush a sudden desire to
lay my hand on his shoulder and call him son. It would have been against
my principles to be so outspokenly sentimental, but his light hair waved
back from a boyish face pallid with illness and the playful curve of
his mouth touched me. If I had been Jane Gray I should have cried over
him. From the forced smile to the button hanging loose on his vest there
was a silent appeal. All the mother in me was aroused and mentally I had
to give myself a good slap to meet the situation with dignity.