I saw the child, a pretty fairy with her long pink silk stockings. She
must have been just about the age of Jewel."

The mother stooped over the little bed and the dingy room looked
pleasanter for her smile. "Jewel hasn't any pink silk stockings," she
murmured, and kissed the warm rose of the round cheek.

The little girl stirred and opened her eyes, at first vaguely, then with
a start.

"Is it time for the boat?" she asked, trying to rise.

Her father smoothed her hair. "No, time to go to sleep again. We're just
going to bed. Good-night, Jewel." He stooped to kiss her, and her arms
met around his neck.

"It was an April fool, wasn't it?" she murmured sleepily, and was
unconscious again.

The mother hid her face for a moment on her husband's shoulder. "Help
me to feel that we're doing right," she whispered, with a catch in her
breath.

"As if I could help _you_, Julia!" he returned humbly.

"Oh, yes, you can, dear." She withdrew from his embrace, and going to
the dresser, took down her hair. The smiling face of a doll looked up at
her from the neighboring chair, where it was sitting bolt upright. Her
costume was fresh from the modiste, and her feet, though hopelessly
pigeon-toed, were encased in bronze boots of a freshness which caught