lay out upon the counterpane like bauds of the most delicate frost.
The fingers of one hand rested lightly on the child beside her, as
though she were counting the pulse of its oncoming life. Out in the
yard the lilies of the valley, slipping out of their cool sheaths of
green leaves, were not more white, more fresh. And surely Georgiana's
gayety is the unconquerable gayety of the world, the youthfulness of
youth immortal.

I went over to her with the strange new awe I feel at my union with the
young mother, where hitherto there has but been a union with the woman
I love. She stretched out her hands to me, almost hidden under the
lace of her sleeves, and drew my face down against hers, as she said in
my ear,

"_Now_ you are the old Adam!"

When she released me, she bent over the child and added, reproachfully,

"You haven't paid the least attention to the baby yet."

"I haven't noticed that the baby has bestowed the least attention upon
me. He is the youngest."

"He is the guest of the house! It is your duty to speak to him first."

"He doesn't act like a guest in my house. He behaves as though he
owned it. I'm nobody since he arrived--not even his body-servant."

Georgiana, who was still bending over the child, glanced up with a look
of confidential, whimsical distress.