"It is an easy thing to make mistakes about, as you know. I can assure you there is nothing wrong in any way. You must allow a medical man--two medical men, for Errington attended her--to be the judge of that," said he, with the airs a young doctor gives himself when he has begun to make a name. I was indeed thankful to hear him say so, but still I could not quite understand it. I wondered if it were possible--but no, it could not be! The cruel suspicion having entered my mind, however, I felt obliged to speak of it. "I am not to suppose, am I, that Phyllis _wished_ to deceive her own mother--and on such a point?" Edmund at once replied, stormily, that I was certainly not to suppose any such preposterous thing; but he protested over much, I thought, and grew red in the face as he did so. I thought it not improbable that _he_ had suggested my being put off the scent--he, who seemed to have known just when the baby was to be expected; afterwards I was sure of it. My own dear girl would have been incapable of such an idea. I asked Edmund the hour at which the event had taken place. He said at a little before three that morning. It was now between nine and ten--as I pointed out. He said they had all been glad of a little sleep after their excitement, and that he had come as soon as he could get away. He had also ridden at racing pace, averaging I don't know how many miles an hour. No, the buggy would not have been quicker, even with a pair, and he had wanted his wheel for refreshment and exercise. Of course he could not take me back on it, but there was no hurry about that. He had left Phyllis sleeping as soundly as a top, and the longer she was undisturbed the better. "Certainly," I said, with rigid face and shaking heart. "And it is right that I should be there to see that she is undisturbed. I ought to have been there _hours_ ago, Edmund, and I can't _think_ why you did not send for me--her own mother--the very _first_ person who should have been informed." He began to make all sorts of lame excuses. "You see, Mater dear, the telegraph offices are not open on Sundays." "Was it Sunday? So long ago as yesterday? And where were the buggy and the bicycle--not to speak of the trains?" "The buggy and the bicycle were there, but I had to send the groom hunting for Errington, and of course I could not leave her myself. There was not a soul to take a message to you, Mater dear. Besides, there was no earthly use in giving you an upset for nothing. We soon saw that everything was going on beautifully--otherwise, of _course_, you would have been fetched at once--and so we thought you might as well be spared all the worry--you would have worried frightfully, you know--and that we would give you a pleasant surprise when it was all over. And now you don't seem half grateful to us for being so thoughtful about you." He laughed at this poor joke. I could not laugh. My heart was too full.