drawn work centre pieces, and crepe kimonas. Now and then the
boy stopped and spoke to the baby in a lovely gentle voice. He
promised it food, and shelter soon in his own soft tongue. He was
carrying it to his wife's mother, and sullen as he looked and was,
and thief as he was, love for his own swayed him, and made him
determined to hold it fast. Von Rosen made all possible inquiries. He
employed detectives but he never obtained the least clue to the
whereabouts of the little child. He, however, although he grieved
absurdly, almost as absurdly as Jane, had a curious sense of joy over
the whole. Life in Fairbridge had, before birth and death entered his
home, been so monotonous, that he was almost stupefied. Here was a
thread of vital gold and flame, although it had brought pain with it.
When Doctor Sturtevant condoled with him, he met with an unexpected
response. "I feel for you, old man. It was a mighty unfortunate thing
that it happened in your house, now that this has come of it," he
said.

"I am very glad it happened, whatever came of it," said Von Rosen.
"It is something to have had in my life. I wouldn't have missed it."

Fairbridge people, who were on the whole a good-natured set, were
very sympathetic, especially the women. Bessy Dicky shed tears when
talking to Mrs. Sturtevant about the disappearance of the baby. Mrs.
Sturtevant was not very responsive.

"It may be all for the best," she said. "Nobody can tell how that
child would have turned out. He might have ended by killing Mr. von
Rosen." Then she added with a sigh that she hoped his poor mother
had been married.

"Why, of course she was since there was a baby," said Bessy Dicky.
Then she rose hastily with a blush because Doctor Sturtevant's motor
could be heard, and took her leave.

Doctor Sturtevant had just returned from a call upon Margaret Edes,
who had experienced a very severe disappointment, coming as it did
after another very successful meeting of the Zenith Club at Daisy
Shaw's, who had most unexpectedly provided a second cousin who
recited monologues wonderfully. Wilbur had failed in his attempt to
secure Lydia Greenway for Margaret's star-feature. The actress had
promised, but had been suddenly attacked with a very severe cold
which had obliged her to sail for Europe a week earlier than she had
planned. Margaret had been quite ill, but Doctor Sturtevant gave her
pain pellets with the result that late in the afternoon she sat on
her ver