he had
forgotten the romance and passion of good-byes. He kissed George; he
kissed the three-year-old; he kissed her a kiss of mere every day
affection; then, taking a hand of each of the children, he said gaily:

"All come down to see Daddy start, won't you?"

The hall porter came up for the bags. Osborn helped the excited
children down the long flights of grey stone stairs, and she followed.
During the business of stowing the luggage on the cab, she took the
children from Osborn, and, heedless of the passers-by, put up her
longing face once more.

"Good-bye," she said tremulously.

He kissed her again quickly, turned away, jumped into the cab, and she
saw the shining of his eyes through the window. He pulled the strap
and let it down. "Be good kids," he exhorted. "Bye-bye, dear! Bye-bye,
all of you! Take care of yourselves!"

He was gone.

Marie stood bareheaded in the bleak wind, holding a hand of each of
her children, to watch his cab down the street. After it had
disappeared she still stood there, gazing blankly at the place of its
vanishing, till at last the younger child, shuddering, complained:
"Mummy, I's so told."

"Are you, darling?" she said tenderly, lifting the blue mite in her
arms. She carried her child up all the grey stone stairs, George
following, and they re-entered the flat.

It had an air of missing someone very desolately.

Her face puckered suddenly and she was afraid she was going to cry
again, before the children, but George stood in front of her,
examining her minutely, and she straightened her lips.

"Mummie," said George, "you hasn't barfed poor baby."

"You come and help Mummie do it," she answered.

The procession of three went together into the bedroom, where the
long-suffering baby had begun at last to protest. The rumpled beds
were as she and Osborn had left them, and the room looked soiled. She
inspected it for a moment before she turned to the business of bathing
and dressing the baby.

Osborn's late breakfast had made her late with the housework, but it
didn't matter. There was no one to work for, cook for, keep up the
standard for. For a few minutes she thought thus.

George and the three-year-old gave her a great deal of help with the
baby. Their little fat, loving faces turned to her in the utmost
worship and faith, and they trotted about, vying with each other in
bringing her this and that for the infantile toilet. And when it was
accomplished, George took char