relaxed his wooden expression.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. French. I did not recognize you, sir. The
truth is, we're a bit h'upset h'inside. Mrs. Minthrop is tuk ill,
sir--very sudden--and we're expecting the good word every minute. I
shall tell Mr. Minthrop you called."

Stephen nodded and turned away--the fates had ordained that he was to
carry his secret till the morning. It had been a harassing burden in
the daylight hours, but during the night it became maddening; it
seemed beyond his resolution to tell Deena that the pleasure trip he
had set on foot for her husband's advantage had ended in death.

As early as he thought permissible, the next morning, he presented
himself at Ben's door--this time gaining, a cheerful admission--and
was shown to the library on the second floor. There he found the young
father, radiantly happy, and so self-centered that he had entirely
forgotten the misfortune overhanging his sister-in-law.

"Come and see my son," he said, proudly, and in spite of an expression
of reluctance on the part of French to intrude into the upper regions
of the house, he pushed him ahead of him up the next flight of stairs
and knocked softly at the door of a back bedroom.

Deena's voice bade them enter, and French was ushered into a large
room fitted out as a nursery, with the newest appliances for baby
comfort. There was a bassinette so be-muslined and be-ribboned and
be-laced that it looked like a ball dress standing by itself in the
middle of the floor; and a bathtub that looked like a hammock; and a
weighing machine; and a chart for recording the daily weight; and a
large table with a glass top; and a basket containing all the articles
for the Lilliputian toilet; while near the fender some doll-like
clothes were airing.

Deena was sitting in a low rocking-chair near the fire with her nephew
in her arms. She welcomed her visitors with a smile, and turned down a
corner of the baby's blanket to display his puckered ugliness to
Stephen. She was looking happy, tender, proud, maternally beautiful.

"Hasn't he a beautifully shaped head?" she demanded, passing her hand
tenderly over the furry down that served him for hair. "And look at
his ears and his hands--was there ever anything so exquisite?"

It was French's first introduction to a young human, and he found it
slightly repulsive, but Deena, in her Madonna-like sweetness, made his
heart swell.

"He is part of an exquisite picture," he answered.

Be