"Why don't you go with him?" she inquired of her sister. "He should not stir one step without me, if I were in your place. Only think! you might spend six months in Paris!" "How would Baby Belle relish a sea voyage!" returned Sarah. "Nonsense! How supremely silly! One would suppose that she was the only member of the family whose comfort was to be consulted. Rather than expose her to the possibility of inconvenience, you will deprive yourself of profit and pleasure, and be separated from your husband for nobody knows how long. This shows how much these model married people really care for one another. When put to the test they are no better than we poor sinners, whom everybody calls flirts. Phil, are those muffins warm? This one of mine has grown cold while I was talking." "How are the horses, Benson?" inquired Lewis. "Have they been exercised regularly?" "Yes, and are in capital order. You could have left us no more acceptable reminder of yourself than those same fine bays." "If you have no other engagement, suppose we have them up before the light carriage after breakfast, and take a short drive." "Agreed, with all my heart! unless Mrs. Hammond quarrels with me for robbing her of a portion of your last morning with her." "She will forgive you!" Lewis rejoined, to spare her the effort of reply. From her window Sarah saw them whirl off along the beach in sight of the hundreds of spectators on the sands and about the hotels, and recognized the ingenuity of this scheme for proclaiming the amicable feeling between the two. "But one more scene, and the hateful mockery is over!" thought the wife, as she heard her husband's step outside the door on his return. She snatched a paper from the table, and seemed absorbed in its contents, not looking up at his entrance. Lewis made several turns through the room, sighed heavily, and once paused, as if about to address her, but changed his mind. Then sounded from without the fresh, gurgling laugh of a child, and the nurse came in with the baby--rosy and bright--from her morning walk on the shore. She almost sprang from Mary's hold at sight of her father, and dismissing the woman with a word, he took his darling into his arms and sat down behind his wife. Inflexibly sullen, Sarah tried not to listen, as she would not see them; but she heard every sound: the child's soft coo of satisfaction as she nestled in the father's bosom; the many kisses he imprinted upon her pure face and mouth with what agony Sarah well knew--the irregular respiration, sometimes repressed, until its breaking forth was like sobs; and the proud, miserable heart confessed reluctantly that, in one respect, his share of their divided lot was heavier than hers. She was not to witness his final resignation of his idol. Under color of summoning Mary, he carried the infant from the room, and came back without her. "It is time for me to go now, Sarah!"