So Osborn Kerr, arriving home not very late--it was only just after eleven o'clock--found his mother-in-law seated alone upon his hearth, needles flying over one of the pale blue jerseys in which little George was to winter. She greeted his stare of astonishment placidly, with her propitiating smile and deceitful words: "I thought you would be cold, Osborn, so I put a match to the fire." "Oh, thanks," said Osborn, "thanks very much. Where's Marie?" "She's gone to bed." "Gone to bed, and left you here by yourself!" Then a thought assailed him: "I say," he asked himself, "is she--is she staying behind to give me a talking-to about anything? What've I done now?" The question made him antagonistic, and he looked at her keenly. "Are you--are you staying the night?" he asked; "because, if so, I'll just take my things out of the dressing-room into our room, unless you have done it?" She lifted her hands. "Oh, my dear boy, I shouldn't dream of putting you so about! It is only that I stayed to tell you a little bit of news which Marie seemed a trifle reluctant to tell you." She put her head on one side and looked at him smilingly. There was no sign upon her face to tell him how anxious her heart was, nor how she had offered up a prayer as his latchkey clicked in the lock: "Oh, Lord, don't let him be angry; let him be very kind to Marie, for Christ's sake! Amen." "If there's anything Marie can't tell me herself--" In her most propitiatory voice she said, smiling up at the young man, "Can't you guess? I expect you do know, don't you, though Marie thinks you don't?" Osborn sat down. "I can't possibly guess. Is it a puzzle, at this time of night?" "It is not a puzzle," said Mrs. Amber, overflowing with feeling so that she had to remove and wipe her glasses; "it is just the most natural and ordinary and beautiful thing in the world." He sat forward quickly, beginning to have some glimmer of her significance. "You _can't_ mean--" "You and Marie are going to be blessed with another child." "'Blessed'?" said Osborn, after a short pause, "'blessed'?" "Blessed!" repeated Mrs. Amber anxiously. "Some people," said Osborn, "have rum ideas about blessings." "Won't you go in and see Marie and tell her you're pleased?" "Is she awake?" "I expect she is; most women would be," said Mrs. Amber slowly. She began with extreme care to roll up her knitting while she awaited his further words; she did not look at him, but glanced about the room, as if seeking some happy idea which she could clothe in the right and most acceptable words. "Does she expect me to be pleased?" Osborn asked. "Well," said Mrs. Amber confidentially, "between you and me, she doesn't; and that's why I offered to tell you, Osborn. She didn't like to." "Poor girl," said Osborn soberly.