with Babcock varnish.

One morning Selma set forth by agreement with Littleton, in order to
inspect some fresco work. Muriel Grace was ailing slightly, but as she
would be home by mid-day, she bade the hired girl be watchful of baby,
and kept her appointment. The child had grown dear to her, for Muriel
was a charming little dot, and Selma had already begun to enjoy the
maternal delight of human doll dressing, an extravagance in which she
was lavishly encouraged by her husband. Babcock was glad of any excuse
to spend money on his daughter, who seemed to him, from day to day, a
greater marvel of precocity--such a child as became Selma's beauty and
cleverness and his own practical common-sense.

Selma was in a pensive frame of mind this morning. Two days before she
had read a paper at the Institute on "Motherhood," which had been
enthusiastically received. Mrs. Earle had printed a flattering item
concerning it in the _Benham Sentinel_. It was agreeable to her to be
going to meet Littleton, for he was the most interesting masculine
figure in her life. She was sure of Lewis. He was her husband and she
knew herself to be the apple of his eye; but she knew exactly what he
was going to say before he said it, and much of what he said grated on
her. She was almost equally sure of Littleton; that is of his
admiration. His companionship was a constant pleasure to her. As a
married woman, and as a Christian and American woman, she desired no
more than this. But on the other hand, she would fain have this admiring
companionship continue; and yet it could not. Littleton had told her the
day before that he was going back to New York and that it was doubtful
if he would return. She would miss him. She would have the Institute and
Mrs. Earle still, but her life would be less full.