clay　which　could　be　moulded　into　fairly　tenacious　forms。　Here　I　created　a　maritime　empireislands；　a　seaboard　with　harbours；　light…houses；　fortifications。　My　geographical　imitativeness　had　its　full　swing。　Sometimes；　while　I　was　creating；　a　cart　would　be　driven　roughly　into　the　pond；　and　a　horse　would　drink　deep　of　my　ocean；　his　hooves　trampling　my　archipelagoes　and　shattering　my　ports　with　what　was　worse　than　a　typhoon。　But　I　immediately　set　to　work；　as　soon　as　the　cart　was　gone　and　the　mud　had　settled；　to　tidy　up　my　coastline　again　and　to　scoop　out　anew　my　harbours。
  My　pleasure　in　this　sport　was　endless；　and　what　I　was　able　to　see；　in　my　mind's　eye；　was　not　the　edge　of　a　morass　of　mud；　but　a　splendid　line　of　coast；　and　gulfs　of　the　type　of　Tor　Bay。　I　do　not　recollect　a　sharper　double　humiliation　than　when　old　Sam　Lamble；　the　blacksmith；　who　was　one　of　the　'saints'；　being　asked　by　my　Father　whether　he　had　met　me；　replied　'Yes；　I　zeed　'un　up…　long；　making　mud　pies　in　the　ro…ad！'　What　a　position　for　one　who　had　been　received　into　communion　'as　an　adult'！　What　a　blot　on　the　scutcheon　of　a　would…be　Columbus！　'Mud…pies'；　indeed！
  Yet　I　had　an　appreciator。　One　afternoon；　as　I　was　busy　on　my　geographical　operations；　a　good…looking　middle…aged　lady；　with　a　soft　pink　cheek　and　a　sparkling　hazel　eye；　paused　and　asked　me　if　my　name　was　not　what　it　was。　I　had　seen　her　before；　a　stranger　to　our　parts；　with　a　voice　without　a　trace　in　it　of　the　Devonshire　drawl。　I　knew；　dimly；　that　she　came　sometimes　to　the　meeting；　that　she　was　lodging　at　Upton　with　some　friends　of　ours　who　accepted　paying　guests　in　an　old　house　that　was　simply　a　basket　of　roses。　She　was　Miss　Brightwen；　and　I　now　conversed　with　her　for　the　first　time。
  Her　interest　in　my　harbours　and　islands　was　marked；　she　did　not　smile；　she　asked　questions　about　my　peninsulas　which　were　intelligent　and　pertinent。　I　was　even　persuaded　at　last　to　leave　my　creations　and　to　walk　with　her　towards　the　village。　I　was　pleased　with　her　voice；　her　refinements；　her　dress；　which　was　more　delicate；　and　her　manners；　which　were　more　easy；　than　what　I　was　accustomed　to；　We　had　some　very　pleasant　conversation；　and　when　we　parted　I　had　the　satisfaction　of　feeling　that　our　intercourse　had　been　both　agreeable　to　me　and　instructive　to　her。　I　told　her　that　I　should　be　glad　to　tell　her　more　on　a　future　occasion；　she　thanked　me　very　gravely；　and　then　she　laughed　a　little。　I　confess　I　did　not　see　that　there　was　anything　to　laugh　at。　We　parted　on　warm　terms　of　mutual　esteem；　but　I　little　thought　that　this　sympathetic　Quakerish　lady　was　to　become　my　mother。
  CHAPTER　X
  I　SLEPT　in　a　little　bed　in　a　corner　of　the　room；　and　my　Father　in　the　ancestral　four…poster　nearer　to　the　door。　Very　early　one　Father　called　me　over　to　him。　I　climbed　up；　and　was　snugly　wrapped　in　the　coverlid；　and　then　we　held　a　momentous　conversation。　It　began　abruptly　by　his　asking　me　whether　I　should　like　to　have　a　new　mamma。　I　was　never　a　sentimentalist；　and　I　therefore　answered；　cannily；　that　that　would　depend　on　who　she　was。　He　parried　this；　and　announced　that；　anyway；　a　new　mamma　was　coming；　I　was　sure　to　like　her。　Still　in　a　noncommittal　mood；　I　asked：　'Will　she　go　with　me　to　the　back　of　the　limekiln？'　This　question　caused　my　Father　a　great　bewilderment。　I　had　to　explain　that　the　ambition　of　my　life　was　to　go　up　behind　the　lime…kiln　on　the　top　of　the　hill　that　hung　over　Barton；　a　spot　which　was　forbidden　ground；　being　locally　held　one　of　extreme　danger。　'Oh！　I　daresay　she　will；'　my　Father　then　said；　'but　you　must　guess　who　she　is。'　I　guessed　one　or　two　of　the　less　comely　of　the　female　'saints'；　and；　this　embarrassing　my　Father；since　the　second　I　mentioned　was　a　married　woman　who　kept　a　sweet…shop　in　the　village；he　cut　my　inquiries　short　by　saying；　'It　is　Miss　Brightwen。'
  So　far　so　good；　and　I　was　well　pleased。　But　unfortunately　I　remembered　that　it　was　my　duty　to　testify　'in　season　and　out　of　season'。　I　therefore　asked；　with　much　earnestness；　'But；　Papa；　is　she　one　of　the　Lord's　children？'　He　replied；　with　gravity；　that　she　was。　'Has　she　taken　up　her　cross　in　baptism？'　I　went　on；　for　this　was　my　own　strong　point　as　a　believer。　My　Father　looked　a　little　shamefaced；　and　replied：　'Well；　she　has　not　as　yet　seen　the　necessity　of　that；　but　we　must　pray　that　the　Lord　may　make　her　way　clear　before　her。　You　see；　she　has　been　brought　up；　hitherto；　in　the　so…called　Church　of　England。'　Our　positions　were　now　curiously　changed。　It　seemed　as　if　it　were　I　who　was　the　jealous　monitor；　and　my　Father　the　deprecating　penitent。　I　sat　up　in　the　coverlid；　and　I　shook　a　finger　at　him。　'Papa；'　I　said；　'don't　tell　me　that　she's　a　pedobaptist？'　I　had　lately　acquired　that　valuable　word；　and　I　seized　this　remarkable　opportunity　of　using　it。　It　affected　my　Father　painfully；　but　he　repeated　his　assurance　that　if　we　united　our　prayers；　and　set　the　Scripture　plan　plainly　before　Miss　Brightwen；　there　could　be　no　doubt　that　she　would　see　her　way　to　accepting　the　doctrine　of　adult　baptism。　And　he　said　we　must　judge　not；　lest　we　ourselves　bejudged。　I　had　just　enough　tact　to　let　that　pass；　but　I　was　quite　aware　that　our　whole　system　was　one　of　judging；　and　that　we　had　no　intention　whatever　of　being　judged　ourselves。　Yet　even　at　the　age　of　eleven　one　sees　that　on　certain　occasions　to　press　home　the　truth　is　not　convenient。
  Just　before　Christmas；　on　a　piercing　night　of　frost；　my　Father　brought　to　us　his　bride。　The　smartening　up　of　the　house；　the　new　furniture；　the　removal　of　my　own　possessions　to　a　private　bedroom；　the　wedding…gifts　of　the　'saints'；　all　these　things　paled　in　interest　before　the　fact　that　Miss　Marks　had　made　a　scene'；　in　the　course　of　the　afternoon。　I　was　dancing　about　the　drawing…room；　and　was　saying：　'Oh！　I　am　so　glad　my　new　Mamma　is　coming；'　when　Miss　Marks　called　out；　in　an　unnatural　voice；　'Oh！　you　cruel　child。'　I　stopped　in　amazement　and　stared　at　her；　whereupon　she　threw　prudence　to　the　winds；　and　moaned：　'I　once　thought　I　should　be　your　dear　mamma。'　I　was　simply　stupefied；　and　I　expressed　my　horror　in　terms　that　were　clear　and　strong。　Thereupon　Miss　Marks　had　a　wild　fit　of　hysterics；　while　I　looked　on；　wholly　unsympathetic　and　still　deeply　affronted。　She　was　right；　I　was　cruel；　alas！　but　then；　what　a　silly　woman　she　had　been！　The　consequence　was　that　she　withdrew　in　a　moist　and　quivering　condition　to　her　boudoir；　where　she　had　locked　herself　in　when　I；　all　smiles　and　caresses；　was　welcoming　the　bride　and　bridegroom　on　the　doorstep　as　politely　as　if　I　had　been　a　valued　old　family　retainer。
  My　stepmother　immediately　became　a　great　ally　of　mine。　She　was　never　a　tower　of　strength　to　me；　but　at　least　she　was　always　a　lodge　in　my　garden　of　cucumbers。　She　was　a　very　well…meaning　pious　lady；　but　she　was　not　a　fanatic；　and　her　mind　did　not　naturally　revel　in　spiritual　aspirations。　Almost　her　only　social　fault　was　that　she　was　sometimes　a　little　fretful；　this　was　the　way　in　which　her　bruised　individuality　asserted　itself。　But　she　was　affectionate；　serene；　and　above　all　refined。　Her　refinement　was　extraordinarily　pleasant　to　my　nerves；　on　which　much　else　in　our　surroundings　jarred。
  How　life　may　have　jarred；　poor　insulated　lady；　on　her　during　her　first　experience　of　our　life　at　the　Room；　I　know　not；　but　I　think　she　was　a　philosopher。　She　had；　with　surprising　rashness；　and　in　opposition　to　the　wishes　of　every　member　of　her　own　family；　taken　her　cake；　and　now　she　recognized　that　she　must　eat　it；　to　the　last　crumb。　Over　her　wishes　and　prejudices　my　Father　exercised　a　constant；　cheerful　and　quiet　pressure。　He　was　never　unkind　or　abrupt；　but　he　went　on　adding　avoirdupois　until　her　will　gave　way　under　the　sheer　weight。　Even　to　public　immersion；　which；　as　was　natural　in　a　shy　and　sensitive　lady　of　advancing　years；　she　regarded　with　a　horror　which　was　long　insurmountable；even　to　baptism　she　yielded；　and　my　Father　had　the　joy　to　announce　to　the　Saints　one　Sunday　morning　at　the　breaking　of　bread　that　'my　beloved　wife　has　been　able　at　length　to　see　the　Lord's　Will　in　the　matter　of　baptism；　and　will　testify　to　the　faith　which　is　in　her　on　Thursday　evening　next。'　No　wonder　my　stepmother　was　sometimes　fretful。
  On　the　physical　side；　I　owe　her　an　endless　debt　of　gratitude。　Her　relations；　who　objected　strongly　to　her　marriage；　had　told　her；　among　other　pleasant　prophecies；　that　'the　first　thing　you　will　have　to　do　will　be　to　bury　that　poor　child'。　Under　the　old…world　sway　of　Miss　Marks；　I　had　slept　beneath　a　load　of　blankets；　had　never　gone　out　save　weighted　with　great　coat　and　comforter；　and　had　been　protected　from　fresh　air　as　if　from　a　pestilence。　With　real　courage　my　stepmother　reversed　all　this。　My　bedroom　window　stood　wide　open　all　night　long；　wraps　were　done　away　with；　or　exchanged　for　flannel　garments　next　the　skin；　and　I　was　urged　to　be　out　and　about　as　much　as　possible。
  All　the　quidnuncs　among　the　'saints'　shook　their　heads；　Mary　Grace　Burmington；　a　little　embittered　by　the　downfall　of　her　Marks；　made　a　solemn　remonstrance　to　my　Father；　who；　however；　allowed　my　stepmother　to　carry　out　her　excellent　plan。　My　health　responded　rapidly　to　this　change　of　regime；　but　increase　of　health　did　not　bring　increase　of　spirituality。　My　Father；　fully　occupied　with　moulding