Becky knelt at Judith’s feet and buried her head in her lap. Sue came like a dainty fairy to find a refuge in Judith’s embrace.
“I’d like another mamma—awful well!” she whispered; “and I couldn’t find a lovelier one than you, Cousin Judith.”
“You’ve given up a good deal for us,” Phil remarked in a husky voice, “and I’m afraid we’re not worth it, at all. But the—the youngsters need some sort of a mother, Cousin, and Phœbe and I need some one to advise us and help us in our times of trouble and worry. So we—we haven’t the courage to refuse your generous offer.”
“It won’t need a vote,” asserted Don, scowling darkly to keep from crying. “You’re elected unanimous, Little Mother; an’ that settles it.”
Judith smiled and kissed them all in turn, big and little. Then she said, very seriously:
“This alliance, my dears, means a good deal to all of us, and must not be undertaken lightly. We must have a fair and square agreement, on both sides, setting forth and defining what we have undertaken.”
They were very attentive, at this.
“First,” she continued, “I want to tell you that I am going to love each one of you, dearly, and I want you to promise you will try to love me in return.”
“Why, we do already!” exclaimed Sue, and Judith felt that she answered for all.
“The duty of a mother,” she explained, “is not only to love her children, but to train them properly. She must correct their faults, direct their amusements, attend to their deportment, laugh when they are glad and grieve over their sorrows. And they, in turn, must be content to be guided by her larger experience in life and willing to obey her in everything.”