his own as he did so; a well-remembered little
sign between them, because the first time it had dawned upon Helen that
Ronnie loved her, and wanted her to know it, was on a certain occasion
when he had managed to touch her fingers with his, as she handed him a
cup of tea.

He did so now, smiling up at her. He was so happy, that things were
becoming a little dream-like again; not a nightmare--that would be
impossible with Helen so near--but an exquisite dream; a dream too
perfectly beautiful to be true.

"Darling," he said, "I brought the Infant home in a canvas bag. We must
have a proper case made for it. Aubrey said _you_ would probably want
to put it into a bassinet! I suppose he thought your mind would be
likely to run on bassinets. But the Infant always reminds me of the
darkest horse-chestnut you ever saw in a bursting bur; so I intend to
have a case of polished rosewood made for it, lined with white velvet."

Helen laughed, wildly.

"I have not the smallest desire, Ronald, to put your 'cello into a
bassinet!" she said.

It dawned upon Ronnie that Helen was not pleased.

"It was a silly joke of Aubrey's. I told him so. I said I should tell
you _he_ said it, not I. Let's talk of something else."

He turned his eyes resolutely from the 'cello, and told her of his
manuscript, of the wonderful experiences of his travels, his complete
success in finding the long grass thirteen feet high, and the weird,
wild setting his plot needed.

Suddenly he became conscious that Helen was not listening. She sat
gazing into the fire; her expression cold and unresponsive.

Ronnie's heart stood still. Never before had he seen that look on
Helen's face. Were his nightmares following him home?

For the first time in his life he had a sense of inadequacy. Helen was
not pleased with him. He was not being what she wanted.

He fell miserably silent.

Helen continued to gaze into the fire.

The Infant of Prague calmly reflected the golden lamplight in the
wonderful depths of its polished surface.

Suddenly an inspiration came to Ronnie. Brightness returned to his face.

He stood up.

"Darling," he said, "I told you that an even greater moment was coming
for us."

She rose also, and faced him, expectant.

He put out his hand and lifted the Infant.

"Helen, let's go to the studio, where I first told you I felt sure I
could play a 'cello. We will sit there in the firelight as we did on
that last evening, seven months ag