deceive you."

Lawton looked bewildered. "But that is a real baby in there," he
said, jerking an elbow toward the other room.

"Oh yes," replied Eudora. "I adopted him yesterday. I went to
the Children's Home in Elmfield. Amelia Lancaster went with me.
Wilson drove us over. I know a nurse there. She took care of
mother in her last illness. And I adopted this baby; at least, I
am going to. He comes of respectable people, and his parents are
dead. His mother died when he was born. He is healthy, and I
thought him a beautiful baby."

"Yes, he is," assented Lawton, but he still looked somewhat
perplexed. "But why did you hurry off so and get him, Eudora?"
said he.

"I thought from what you said that day that you would be
disappointed when you found out I had only the Lancaster linen
and not a real baby," said Eudora with her calm, grand air and
with no trace of a smile.

"Then that means that you say yes, Eudora?"

For the first time Eudora gave a startled glance at him. "Didn't
you know?" she gasped.

"How should I? You had not said yes really, dear."

"Do you think," said Eudora Yates, "that I am not too proud to