"It was born the night before Meredith's child. It survived against
grave dangers--it had no care, really, for twenty-four hours."

"You--you think it will live?"

"Yes."

"Do you think--the grandmother will ever reclaim it?"

"No, my dear. She is very old. I do not know how old, but certainly she
cannot last much longer. She is a strange creature, but I am confident
she realizes all that she said."

"And she is right--it is the only way." Doris was now speaking more to
herself than to Angela. It was as if she were arguing, seeking to
convince her conservative self before she stepped out upon a new and
perilous path.

"No one knowing! Then the start could be new. It is the knowing,
expecting, and suggesting that do the harm. We may call it inheritance,
but it may be that we evolve from our knowledge and fears the very thing
we would avert if we were left free."

Sister Angela bent forward. She whispered as if she felt the necessity
of secrecy.

"What do you mean?"

"Sister, can you not see? Suppose it were possible for me to take