se to his head. He was still grimy--many
baths were yet needed before he would be clean; but Sir Tancred saw
that, once clean, and his peaked face filled out a little, he would be
a very pretty baby. His features were fine, his eyes of a deep blue,
his head was small and well-shaped, and the close-cut hair clustered
about it in little curls.

He clung to Selina's gown, and Sir Tancred bade her sit down, and see
what he would do. It was a long time before he stirred from her side,
and then only a little way, moving with a curious, stealthy gait,
casting fearful glances at Sir Tancred. He was attracted by the bright
stuffs which covered the furniture, and went from piece to piece,
stroking it. Then he saw himself in the unnecessarily mirrored door of
the sideboard, and surveyed his image with an almost excited curiosity,
and, it almost seemed, approbation.

[Illustration: He surveyed himself with an excited curiosity.]

An idea struck Sir Tancred; he went out, took a cab, came back with an
armful of toys, and set them in the middle of the room. The child
stared and stared at them with great eyes. After a long while, in his
stealthy, timid way, he made a few steps towards them, and scuttled
back to Selina. He sallied out again, came nearer to them, and fled
back. In the fourth attempt he carried off a little horse, and escaped
with it behind the sofa. There he played with it, or rather sat
hugging it, stroking it, or fingering it, in a dead silence. Sir
Tancred watched his every movement, his every expression, missing
nothing; his eyes could not have enough of him.

Twice again Selina fed him, and twice he was again ravenous. At
half-past six she put him to bed.

Sir Tancred dressed for dinner, made arrangements for the feeding of
Selina, and went into the smoking-room. There Lord Crosland found him,
and they dined together. After dinner Lord Crosland pressed him to go
to a theatre or a music-hall; but Sir Tancred would not: the
discoveries of the day had left him no heart for amusement. He saw
Lord Crosland set out in search of diversion; came back to his room,
and sent Selina to her supper, while he watched over the child. He sat
by the window, looking up the river, and smoking, in an unhappy
reverie. Now and again he went and looked long at his sleeping boy.

When Selina came up from her supper he heard for the first time the
story of his wife's death, and received her last message, which had
bee