of the lips. He bent down.

She whispered into his ear: "I don't--think--I could ever--go--through
it--again."

"Never again, my sweetheart," he whispered back.

She made a motion with her lips; he kissed them gently. "Good night,"
he murmured, "sleep well, poor little angel."

"She'll sleep," said the nurse unexpectedly, from near the fire. She
was tending the baby now, and Osborn looked across at it in the
subdued light. What a little mottled pink thing! What creases! What
insignificance to have brought about all this!

"Look at your bonnie baby, Mr. Kerr," said the nurse, holding the mite
aloft.

"Is that a bonnie baby?" said Osborn sourly.

"Osborn," whispered Marie from the bed, "he's a beautiful baby!"

Osborn looked down, startled, and saw in her wan face some glimmer of
an unknown thing. She--_she_--was pleased with the baby! _She_ admired
and loved it!

He went out astonished.

The next morning, still flat on her pillows, she was nursing the baby
with a smile on her mouth. Under her pink cap the faintest colour