"The housekeeper asks me to come up and see 'Mrs. Philip Caresfoot,'
whom she thinks is going to be confined. Does she mean your wife?"

"Yes," answered Philip sullenly, "she does. It is a long story, and I
am too upset to tell it you now. It will soon be all over the country
I suppose."

The old doctor whistled, but judged it advisable not to put any more
questions, when suddenly an idea seemed to strike him.

"You said you were talking to your father when the fit took him; was
it about your marriage?"

"Yes."

"When did he first know of it?"

"To-day, I believe."

"Ah, thank you;" and he followed Pigott upstairs.

That night, exactly at twelve o'clock, another little lamp floated out
on the waters of life: Angela was born.



CHAPTER XII

When the doctor had gone upstairs, Philip went into the dining-room to