Mr. Bradin called him away. He put Daffodil in the chair and she leaned her head down and whispered to grandfather that a little boy had come, and she was going to be glad, because they all wanted him. And then a curious thought flashed over her. Death and life are profound mysteries, even out of childhood. "Would you like to see the baby?" asked gran'mere Bradin. "Oh, yes." Her mother glanced up out of fond dark eyes. Why, she was as pale as in her long sickness, but not so thin. She said, "Kiss me, Daffodil." "Oh, mother!" "And here is little brother." Daffodil's first feeling was disappointment. She had thought of some angelic beauty. He was red and crumpled up, and there was a crown of thick black hair, and his mouth was puckered up. The mother patted his little face. "He will look better by and by," she said reassuringly. "Mother, I was thinking--it came to me in the chair--isn't it old grandfather come back to us again to live his life over? You know, everything begins little. The flowers die, but they spring up again, most of them in the same places." "Why, child, that is a pretty thought;" and the mother smiled. "And he will have his name, only Grandfather Carrick must have his in, so it will be Alexander Felix Duvernay." "I don't want him to be called Sandy." "I think he won't be. And, Daffodil, you won't mind--I mean, you won't feel jealous. We wanted him so much." There was a touch of anxiety in the mother's voice. "Oh, no. Father asked me that. No, you may love him ever so much, while you love me as well." "She takes it very calmly," said Gran'mere Bradin afterward. "Some children as old as she, and been the only one so long, would have made a great fuss. We have all spoiled her a little, but she has such a sweet temper. It is the Duvernay temper;" smiling. "I hope I have a good share of it," resumed Barbe. The baby was not small, and he grew by the hour. He had soft, large dark eyes. Grandad did not like so much French about him, but he was glad to have a grandson, even at that estate. He soon bleached out, though he was not fair like Daffodil. "I'll have to see about making a fortune for him," said grandad. "Though those acres of wood and farmland will not amount to much, and I don't see what a girl can do with a farm." But the acres lay smiling in the sunshine, perhaps dreaming of the time when they should be homes of beauty. Meanwhile events had been going on rapidly, if not harmoniously, for a stable government for the Colonies. And there must be some sort of a head. A government of the largest liberty it must be, the states forming a great federation for protection and advancement. Out of the discussion came the Federal Constitution, and a President, the man who had never lost faith in the possibility of a great nation. There were, of course, a few dissenting voices, and many fears. For the nation was only an infant.