ad
fled; even memory and fancy turned traitors; not a lively sally could be
found, not a pleasant remembrance returned to help her, and she sat
dumb. Before the dreadful pause grew awkward, however, rescue came in
the form of Tilly. Nothing daunted by the severe simplicity of her
attire she planted herself before Warwick, and shaking her hair out of
her eyes stared at him with an inquiring glance and cheeks as red as her
apple. She seemed satisfied in a moment, and climbing to his knee
established herself there, coolly taking possession of his watch, and
examining the brown beard curiously as it parted with the white flash of
teeth, when Warwick smiled his warmest smile.

"This recalls the night you fed the sparrow in your hand. Do you
remember, Adam?" and Sylvia looked and spoke like her old self again.

"I seldom forget anything. But pleasant as that hour was this is more to
me, for the bird flew away, the baby stays and gives me what I need."

He wrapt the child closer in his arms, leaned his dark head on the
bright one, and took the little feet into his hand with a fatherly look
that caused Tilly to pat his cheek and begin an animated recital of some
nursery legend, which ended in a sudden gape, reminding Sylvia that one
of her guests was keeping late hours.

"What comes next?" asked Warwick.

"Now I lay me and byelow in the trib," answered Tilly, stretching
herself over his arm with a great yawn.

Warwick kissed the rosy half-open mouth and seemed loth to part with the
pious baby, for he took the shawl Sylvia brought and did up the drowsy
bundle himself. While so busied she stole a furtive glance at him,
having looked without seeing before. Thinner and browner, but stronger
than ever was the familiar face she saw, yet neither sad nor stern, for
the grave gentleness which had been a fugitive expression before now
seemed habitual. This, with the hand at the lips and the slow dropping
of the eyes, were the only tokens of the sharp experience he had been
passing through. Born for conflict and endurance, he seemed to have
manfully accepted the sweet uses of adversity and grown the richer for
his loss.

Those who themselves are quick to suffer, are also quick to see the
marks of suffering in others; that hasty scrutiny assured Sylvia of all
she had yearned to know, yet wrung her heart with a pity the deeper for
its impotence. Tilly's heavy head drooped between her bearer and the
light as they left the room, but i