me a bunch of gay ribbons for my last new doll, or even read me a
thrilling tale from my Christmas book of nursery fictions; but that
impulse was necessarily short-lived, and once it became spent, the
crater of her heart closed up again, and all was as cold and quiet as
before.

To my untutored mind, this relaxation, limited though it was, became a
perplexing mystery. I was conscious of no improvement in my attitude
towards my step-mother, I had not even wished, or determined to show
her any more marked affection or respect than I had ever done, and
this, to tell the truth, was precious little.

I did not know then, that this generous impulse of hers was
independent of her own desire or will, that it filled her heart
without her sanction or command, just as her life-blood did; that it
permeated her very being, when she neither sought nor expected it, and
that as it was self-creative, so would it of itself find a
satisfactory outlet in expressions and actions of tender womanly
solicitude.

As soon as my half-brother made his entrance into the world, however,
things took another turn. I was no longer the free, unfettered
creature I had been for the first part of my life. I could no longer
dispose of my days and hours as I liked best, but was on the contrary
forced to devote many of them to occupations of a most distasteful
nature.

The coming of this insignificant stranger into our home seemed a
disturbing and restless evil in my eyes. Naturally my stepmother was
beside herself with ecstacy, but why should she have expected the rest