little family was as sweet as it was genuine. In the evening a
magic-lantern displayed its illusions and mysterious pictures on a
white sheet to Charles' great surprise, and more than once the innocent
child's heavenly rapture made Caroline and Roger laugh heartily.

Later, when the little boy was in bed, the baby woke and craved its
limpid nourishment. By the light of a lamp in the chimney corner,
Roger enjoyed the scene of peace and comfort, and gave himself up to
the happiness of contemplating the sweet picture of the child clinging
to Caroline's white bosom as she sat, as fresh as a newly opened lily,
while her hair fell in long brown curls that almost hid her neck. The
lamplight enhanced the grace of the young mother, shedding over her,
her dress, and the infant, the picturesque effects of strong light and
shadow.

The calm and silent woman's face struck Roger as a thousand times
sweeter than ever, and he gazed tenderly at the rosy, pouting lips
from which no harsh word had ever been heard. The very same thought
was legible in Caroline's eyes as she gave a sidelong look at Roger,
either to enjoy the effect she was producing on him, or to see what
the end of the evening was to be. He, understanding the meaning of
this cunning glance, said with assumed regret, "I must be going. I
have a serious case to be finished, and I am expected at home. Duty
before all things--don't you think so, my darling?"

Caroline looked him in the face with an expression at once sad and
sweet, with the resignation which does not, however, disguise the
pangs of a sacrifice.

"Good-bye, then," said she. "Go, for if you stay an hour longer I