Nurse was masterful, and Jean was weak. She swallowed the milk, and impatiently waited for Robert's arrival, hugging the thought of the burden in his arms. Surely he would bring him to her--the hard-won treasure, the tiny, precious son for whose sake she had gone down to the gates of death! The door opened, and Robert entered. His face was drawn and aged, his hazel eyes haggard with suffering; but for once Jean had no thought for him--her eyes saw only his empty arms. "Where is he?" Robert went down on his knees by the bedside. "Jean, darling, speak to me! I have been hungering all these days... Thank God you are better. Oh, Jean, nothing matters in all the world if I have you." Jean smiled, and her fingers feebly returned his caress. "Poor lad! poor lad! You have suffered, too, but he will comfort us. Bring him to me! put him here, between us on the bed. Let us look at him together." "Jean, sweetheart! We have been happy together; sufficient for each other all these months. Am I not more to thee than ten sons?" Then in a flash fear dawned on Jean's heart; her great eyes widened, her lips fell apart. "My baby! Don't torture me. Where is my baby?" "With God," said Robert softly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The nurse had cleared away the tea things. After a due interval she had returned to the room, and been relieved to find the patient lying quietly on her pillow. Mr Gloucester sitting by her side looked more agitated and distressed than she did. His face wore the pitiful, baffled expression of a child whose overtures have been rejected. It was with an air of absolute timidity that he bent forward to kiss his wife's cheek when bidden to depart by the autocrat of the situation. "I must go, darling. I'll come back soon." Jean's head moved slightly on the pillow, but the movement was away from him, not nearer. She spoke no word. Nurse Emma moved about the room, performing necessary duties in the deft, noiseless manner of her kind. From time to time she cast a curious glance at the still face on the pillow. "Poor thing! Too weak, no doubt, to take it in! Yet she had seemed excited at the thought of the boy. A pity, after such a hard time, but there would be plenty more." She shook out some dainty, lace-frilled garments before the fire, and approached the bed, judiciously cheerful. "Now, it is six o'clock! You are so much better this afternoon--what do you say? Could you fancy a nice cup of tea?" Jean opened her eyes, and looked at her. It was not a look, it was a glare; the grey eyes were dry, tearless, blazing. At the sight Nurse Emma was positively shaken with surprise. "Oh, my dear, don't look at me like that! It was not my fault. We did our best for you--more than our best. I never saw Dr Erroll so anxious. You owe your life to him. It's sad, of course; a great disappointment, but you are so young, and you have your good husband. You mustn't fret."