I let myself be just as superstitious then as I wanted. I had said if that little sick boy lived, so would my hopes, and I believed it. I lit a candle and went up into the unfinished part of our attic where there is a lot of old furniture packed away. It's rather a spooky place in the dark, and cold too, but I didn't notice it to-night. 'Way over in the corner stood the little old-fashioned cradle that belonged to Will's mother--one of those low, wooden-hooded ones with rockers, that you can rock with one foot. I had always planned to use that. It's so quaint and dear and old-fashioned. In the cradle in a green pasteboard box was a whole bundle of Will's baby-clothes--the queerest, finest little hand-made muslin shirts, and dresses with a lot of stiff embroidery and ruffles. I had no idea what time it was when later I heard Ruth calling me from below. "Lucy, Lucy! Are you up there?" "Yes," I answered. "What time is it?" "Why, it's after midnight! _What_ are you doing?" "Oh, looking up some old stuff. I'll be right down." I met her on the stairs. I felt guilty. I was afraid that joy was written all over my face. I might as well have just left the arms of a lover. "Oh, Ruth," I exclaimed, "isn't it _fine_? That little boy in Chicago is going to live! I've had a special delivery from Will. Isn't it _great_? He's going to get well!" "That's splendid," said Ruth, and then, eyes sparkling, voice trembling, she exploded, "Oh, Lucy, Bob has just gone! We're engaged!" I blew out the candle for safety's sake, and put my arms about my sister. "Really, Ruth?" I exclaimed, and we sat down side by side on the dark stairs. "He's cared for me all along, _all_ the fall--_all this time_! Of course we both couldn't help but know it! But Bob--he's just that honourable he wouldn't say a word till he told me all about his circumstances and--everything. Circumstances! Oh, dear, I--What do you think of Bob, Lucy?" she broke off. "I've always said that, next to Will, I'd rather marry Bob than any man I've known," I replied heartily. "And does Will like him?" quivered Ruth. "Will calls Bob the salt of the earth. _Everybody_ likes Bob Jennings, Ruth!"