"
"Yes, I know. I want her."
"Are you able--just now, dear?"
"I--must have little Ann."
So Ann came. She was white--very much awed; but she smiled. Lynda did
not open her eyes at once; she was trying to get back some of the old
self-control that had been so mercilessly shattered during the hours of
her struggle, but presently she looked up.
"You--kept your word, Ann," she said. Then: "You--you made a place for
my baby. Little Ann--kiss your--brother."
They named the baby for William Truedale and they called him Billy, in
deference to his pretty baby ways.
"He must be Uncle William's representative," said Lynda, "as Bobbie is
the representative of Betty's little dead boy."
"I often think of--the money, Lyn." Truedale spoke slowly and seriously.
"How I hated it; how I tried to get rid of it! But when it is used
rightly it seems to secure dignity for itself. I've learned to respect
it, and I want our boy to respect it also. I want to put it on a firm
foundation and make it part of Billy's equipment--a big trust for which
he must be trained."
"I think I would like his training to precede his knowledge of the money
as far as possible," Lynda replied. "I'd like him to put up a bit of a
fight--as his father did before him."
"As his father did _not_!" Truedale's eyes grew gloomy. "I'm afraid,
Lyn, I'm constructed on the modelling plan--added to, built up.
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