"Sorry I spoofed you about the time," said Hartley, some hour and a half after. "But you were making such an ass of yourself that we all thought you'd be better out of the way. You can go up now, if you like. Only don't stay long."

Ronnie, one hand on the newel-post of the staircase, laughed as he answered, "I'm afraid I was a wee bit rattled"; and went up the blue-carpeted treads three at a time.

The door of Alie's room, as though expectant, stood a mite open. Through the chink of it shone a primrose gleam of light. Alie's husband knocked faintly; and nurse rustled to the doorway. "They're asleep," whispered nurse. "You may look at them if you like."

The uniformed woman let him in, closing the door of the room. The cretonne curtains were still drawn across the latticed windows. Candles glowed on the mantelpiece and the dressing-table. But the big bed, toward which Ronnie tiptoed, was in shadow; so that Aliette's hair, braided down either shoulder, showed dark against white pillows and whiter skin.

She slept--the child, his man-child, tiny in the crook of her arm--the ghost of a smile on her breathing lips. Ronnie stood for a long while, gazing down on the pair of them. His blue eyes were bright with thankfulness. His heart thudded, pleasurably, against his ribs.

"She wouldn't let me take the baby from her," whispered nurse. "You'll go away now, won't you? They mustn't be woken."

But at that, Aliette's eyes opened. Drowsily, she looked up at him; drowsily, smiling still, she murmured:

"Kiss me before you go, man. I'm so happy, so wonderfully and gloriously happy."

Bending, Ronald Cavendish kissed his wife's warm fluttering eyelids and the soft downy head in the crook of her arm.

Transcriber's notes:

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Panoroma was changed to panorama on page 482 of the original.