As Mrs. Royal read this brief note, a peculiar expression overspread
her face. She uttered no word, but her head drooped lower over the
baby and she remained very still. Her husband at once realising how
she felt, laid his hand upon hers.

"There, there, dear," he soothed. "I didn't mean to make you feel
badly. It was only a little mistake after all, and I am really glad it
is a boy, for if will make us think that we have Alec with us again."

Mrs. Royal looked up and brushed away a tear. At that instant the baby
gave a vigorous kick, accompanied by a peculiar gurgle of delight, at
which the two attendants laughed heartily.

"That's right, little man," and the parson nodded his head approvingly.
"You're pleased, too, are you, to know that we've found out that you
are a boy? You didn't want to be called Deborah, Debbie, or Deb, did
you? Rodney suits you better, eh? How do you like the name, Martha?"

"Very well, indeed," and Mrs. Royal gave a sigh of relief. "It removes
quite a load from my mind. But, there," she added, "I must put him to
bed. It isn't good for a baby to be up so late. Come, Rodney," and
she lifted the little one in her arms, "kiss your----"

"Grandad," the parson assisted as his wife paused. "We shall teach him
to call me that, eh? It will be better than 'daddy.'"

"You look after him, Daniel, while I make his bed ready. Don't let him
fall. There, that's good," and Mrs. Royal stepped back to view the
baby lying in her husband's arms.