staring down upon the sleeping baby.

"I came in like a monster and didn't wake 'im," he was whispering
to himself. "The little beggar!"

He reached out a great hand behind him, gropingly, and it touched
a chair. He drew it to him, still keeping his eyes on the baby,
and sat down, his huge, bent shoulders doubled over the edge of
the bed, his hands hovering hesitatingly over the counterpane. In
wonderment Philip watched him, and he heard him whisper again:

"You blessed little beggar!"

Then he looked up suddenly. In his face was the transformation
that might have come into a woman's. There was something awesome
in its animal strength and its tenderness. He seized one of
Philip's hands and held it for a moment in a grip that made the
other's fingers ache.

"You're sure it's a boy?" he asked anxiously.

"Quite sure," replied Philip. "We've named him John."

The master of the Adare House leaned over the bed again. Philip
heard him mumbling softly in his thick beard, and very cautiously
he touched the end of a big forefinger to one of the baby's tiny
fists. The little fingers opened, and then they closed tightly
about John Adare's thumb. The older man looked again at Philip,
and from him his eyes sought Josephine. His voice trembled with
ecstasy.