“Aw, the wee sweet bairnie!” murmured the old Scotch nurse. “If only her man will be gude to her!” There was some special bit of Starr’s attire for the evening that had not arrived. She was in a twitter of expectancy about it, to be sure it pleased her, and when she heard the bell she rushed to the head of the stairs and was half-way down to see if it had come, when the servant opened the door to Lizzie and her baby. One second more and the door would have closed hopelessly on poor Lizzie, for no servant in that house would have thought of admitting such a creature to the presence of their lady a few hours before her wedding; but Starr, poised half-way on the landing, called, “What is it, Graves, some one to see me?” “But she’s not the sort of person—Miss Starr!” protested Graves with the door only open a crack now. “Never mind, Graves, I’ll see her for a minute. I can’t deny anyone on my wedding day you know, and father almost safely here. Show her into the little reception room.” She smiled a ravishing smile on the devoted Graves, so with many qualms of conscience and misgivings as to what the mistress would say if she found out, Graves ushered Lizzie and her baby to the room indicated and Starr fluttered down to see her. So it was Starr’s own doings that Lizzie came into her presence on that eventful afternoon. “Oh, what a sweet baby!” exclaimed Starr eagerly, “is he yours?” Lizzie’s fierce eyes softened. “Sit down and tell me who you are. Wait, I’ll have some tea brought for you. You look tired. And won’t you let me give that sweet baby a little white shawl of mine. I’m to be married tonight and I’d like to give him a wedding present,” she laughed gaily, and Morton was sent for the shawl and another servant for the tea, while Starr amused herself by making the baby crow at her. Lizzie sat in wonder. Almost for the moment she forgot her errand watching this sweet girl in her lovely attire making much of her baby. But when the tea had been brought and the soft white wool shawl wrapped around the smiling baby Starr said again: “Now please tell me who you are and what you have come for. I can’t give you but a minute or two more. This is a busy day, you know.” Lizzie’s brow darkened. “I’m Mrs. Carter!” she said drawing herself up with conscious pride. “Carter?” said Starr politely. “Yes, I’m the wife of the man you’re goin’ to marry tonight, an’ this is his child, I thought I’d come an’ tell you ’fore ’twas too late. I thought ef you had enny goodness in you you’d put a stop to this an’ give me my rights, an’ you seem to hev some heart. Can’t you call it off? You wouldn’t want to take my husband away from me, would you? You can get plenty others an’ I’m jest a plain workin’ girl, an’ he’s mine anyhow, an’ this is his kid.” Starr had started to her feet, her eyes wide, her hand fluttering to her heart.