Content looked. Looking seemed to be the instinctive action which distinguished her as an individual.
“Have you a big sister--Solly?” asked the rector. His face was stern, but his voice faltered.
“I have a big sister Solly,” said Content. Now she spoke rather wearily, although still sweetly, as if puzzled why she had been disturbed in sleep to be asked such an obvious question.
“Where has she been all the time, that we have known nothing about her?” demanded the rector.
Content smiled. However, she spoke. “Home,” said she.
Content smiled and was silent. The rector cast a helpless look at his wife. He now did not care if she did see that he was completely at a loss. How could a great, robust man and a clergyman be harsh to a tender little girl child in a pink-andwhite nest of innocent dreams?
Sally pitied him. She spoke more harshly than her husband. “Content Adams,” said she, “you know perfectly well that you have no big sister Solly. Now tell me the truth. Tell me you have no big sister Solly.”
“I have a big sister Solly,” said Content.
“Come, Edward,” said Sally. “There is no use in staying and talking to this obstinate little girl any longer.” Then she spoke to Content. “Before you go to sleep,” said she, “you must say your prayers, if you have not already done so.”
“I have said my prayers,” replied Content, and her blue eyes were full of horrified astonishment at the suspicion.
“Then,” said Sally, “you had better say them over and add something. Pray that you may always tell the truth.”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Content, in her little canary pipe.
The rector and his wife went out. Sally switched off the light with a snap as she passed. Out in the hall she stopped and held her husband's arms hard. “Hush!” she whispered. They both listened. They heard this, in the faintest plaint of a voice:
“They don't believe you are here, Sister Solly, but I do.”
Sally dashed back into the rosebud room and switched on the light. She stared around. She opened a closet door. Then she turned off the light and joined her husband.
When they were back in the study the rector and his wife looked at each other.
“We will do the best we can,” said Sally. “Don't worry, Edward, for you have to write your sermon to-morrow. We will manage some way. I will admit that I rather wish Content had had some other distant relative besides you who could have taken charge of her.”