bloomed in her cheek; she asked for a fresh pink ribbon for her
nightgown; she had slept peacefully. Some flowers were sent very
early, with congratulations. They were from Rokeby and from Julia, and
were arranged near her bed as she lay with this wonderful toy, this
little new pet, Osborn's son, beside her. She had emerged out of her
black darkness into light.




CHAPTER IX

PROBLEMS


Throughout Marie's convalescence there were things to buy; little
things, but endless; to a woman who has suffered so greatly for their
mutual joy can a man deny anything? The husband of a year cannot.
Every day, before he went to his work--he was third salesman to one of
the best Light Car Companies in town--Osborn held consultation, over
the breakfast table, with the nurse. He used to say, as bravely and
carelessly as if he felt no pinch at his pocket, "Is there anything
you want to-day, Nurse?" And there was always something, a lotion, or
a powder, or a new sponge, or a cake of a particular soap. The nurse
had no compunction in adding: "If you _do_ see a few nice grapes,
or a really tender chicken, Mr. Kerr, I believe she might fancy them."

Osborn's lunches, during that month, grew lighter and lighter; they
almost ceased.