Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-12-04

before him. though I do not in the least
made him know. to- he nodded and smiled
in a surprising fashion.
Yes" said he, kindly, "yes-I really am
persuaded that it would be an act OF
charity for you to keep that baby with
you tonight"
aOn our niece's account, you know"
sid 1 with dignity.
Certainly said he, gravely. and
caught up his hat and rushed away. All
the time it seemed to me that he was
curiously moved about something, and l
feared that Millicente might be very ill.
AS for Peleas and me, we could hardly
wait to go upstairs. OF course Nichola
had to know; she brought up the milk and
the alcohol lamp and we were obliged %
tell her. To tell Nichola that you mean
to do something which she thinks is fool
ish is very much like a confession that
your whole point of view is ignorant and
diseased. Still in some fashion Peleas
and I together told her. Our old servant
regarded us with the disapprobation
which it is her delight not to disguise.
Then on her brown fingers she checked
matters off.
mo sleep for neither one O. YOU" she
cast UP the account, headaches tomor-
row. Death O. cold dancin' in an out O.
bed An smothered babby by mornin' )"
"Oh, no, Nichola," said we gently but
sweepingly.
1 brought the baby in our room to un-
dress her. Our room was cheerful and
warm. Peleas had lighted all the candles
as we do in the rare occasions when we
are dressing for some great >eyent; and
the open fire was burning. On table be-
side the bed stood the milk and the
glasses-strangely enough they looked,
where only my Bible and my medicine
have lived for so long. The baby was
asleep when we took her from Millicente.
but she walked and smiled impartially and
played with the ribbon Of her ring in per-
feet peace I took off the little garments,
feeling all the old skill come back to my
poor landslide to all such sweet bust
ness for more than forty years. Peleas
insisted upon taking = the tiny shoes and
stockings; and when I saw the little feet
in his palm, almost I could have believed,
for one swift moment, that the years had
indeed rolled back Then we wrapped
And Peleas spent a long while happily
tucking in and tucking down and pretend
ing to be very useful
We had thought to read for a little
while, and indeed we did try; but neither
Of US could keep our eyes anywhere near
the book. or could listen to the other read
aloud. Once her little hand was thrown
up over the edges Of the covers. What
did we care about the friezes Of the
Parthenon then?
Old Nichola looked In.
BEST leave a lamp burnin'," she said,
crossly-as if we needed advice-"an' IL IT
should cry, you call me-"
BY which, as Peleas said afterward, she
by no means intended to provide for the
possible emotion of the lamp.
To tell the truth. l was longing to feel
that little head in the hollow of my arm
laid it there presently. and tucked my
hand between the two pillows, as I had
been wont, and held away the covering
from the little face. There was the dark
hair, and there was the tiny hand up
lifted, and-as live!-there was the iden-
teal ruffie Of lac, that always used to
bother about the little chin. In that first
ecstatic moment 1 looked up at Peleas al
most frightened, and half expected the
buoyant, youthful face and the dear eyes
that were wont to look down upon Cedric
and me. And the dear eyes smiled, for
they have never changed.
I lay very still, listening to that quiet
breathing, to the little rustic and turning
which is q tender language Of its own,