autumn, when he became too deeply
engrossed with the revolutions taking place in his sad little body to
care much for anything that went on outside it.

Hitherto he had not had to suffer from the neglect of servants. He was so
delicate from his birth that his mother had been strongly advised to keep
on the trained nurse till he was a year old. But Mrs. Nevill Tyson knew
better than that. For some reason she had taken a dislike to her trained
nurse; perhaps she was a little bit afraid of the professional severity
which had so often held in check her fits of hysterical passion. Aided by
Mrs. Wilcox and her own intuitions, after rejecting a dozen candidates on
the ground of youth and frivolity, she chose a woman with calm blue eyes
and a manner that inspired confidence. Swinny, engaged at an enormous
salary, had absolute authority in the nursery. And if it had been
possible to entertain a doubt as to this excellent woman's worth, the
fact that she had kept the Tyson baby alive so long was sufficient
testimonial to her capabilities.

But Swinny was in love--in love with Pinker. And to be in love with
Pinker was to live in a perfect delirium of hopes and fears. No sooner
was Swinny delivered over to the ministers of love, who dealt with her
after their will, than Baby too agonized and languished. His food ceased
to nourish him, his body wasted. They bought a cow for his sole use and
benefit, and guarded it like a sacred animal but to no purpose. He drank
of its milk and grew thinner than ever. Strange furrows began to appear
on his tiny face, with shadows and a transparent tinge like the blue of
skim-milk. As the pure air of Drayton did so little for him, Mrs. Nevill
Tyson wondered how he would bear the change to London.

"Shall I take him, Nevill?" she asked.

"Take him if you like," was the reply. "But you might as well poison the
little beast at home while you're about it."

So it was an understood thing that when Mr. and Mrs. Nevill Tyson settled
in town, Baby was to be left behind at Thorneytoft for the good of his
health. It was his father's proposal, and his mother agreed to it in
silence.

Her indifference roused the severest comments in the household. Mrs.
Nevill Tyson was an unnatural mother. From the day she weaned him, no one
had ever seen her caress the child. She handled him with a touch as light
and fleeting as his own; her lips seemed to shrink from contact with his
pure soft skin. There could be no do