"I do not understand you, Miss Hester," said Alice, looking almost frightened. "Baby has a father as well as a mother, Alice," I repeated; "and I am wronging my husband. I know he has seen little Harry, but he ought to be able to see him every day as I do. I have no right to keep my darling all to myself; he belongs to his father as much as to me, so I have made a vow to go home." "Only because it is right, Miss Hester?" asked Alice. "Do you think anything else would conquer me?" I cried, keeping back my tears with an effort. "I could die by myself without murmuring. I don't ask to be happy, as people call it; but I will not do him injustice--he has a right to his child." After this petulant speech, which, indeed, excited and unsettled as I was by the sudden idea that my husband might not desire to receive me, I could not restrain, I settled myself in my chair, and half from pure wilfulness, half because my mind was so much occupied that I had no great inclination to rest, I made Alice lie down, and continued in the chair myself. Hushed and nestling close to my breast, Baby slept so sweet a sleep that it was a delight to see him; and my thoughts were free to speculate on my plans. Could it be possible that bringing his son, his heir, with me--or, indeed, coming myself in any guise--I would be unwelcome at Cottiswoode? The thought was overwhelming. I was almost seized again with the same dreadful spasm of heartache and weakness which had attacked me on the day of Baby's birth. Was it possible--was it complete alienation, and not mere separation?--had I estranged his heart entirely from me? More than that, the fiend began to whisper--it was all deception--it was all a generous impulse; he never did love me at all--he was only anxious to restore to me my lost inheritance, to make up to me for all he had deprived me of. I tried to fly from the evil suggestion; I put up my hand to feel for my mother's miniature, as if it could help me. This hurried, anxious motion awoke Baby. Oh, I was well punished. He cried a great deal, and woke up thoroughly, and his crying brought on a coughing fit. It was nearly an hour before we had composed and lulled him to sleep, for Alice had started up instantly on hearing his voice. All my terrors were roused by this, though it was rather a little infantine temper and fretfulness than anything else. I fancied I had brought it all upon myself; I trembled with a superstitious dread before the wise, and kind, and pitiful Providence which guided me, as if my own constant transgressions were being followed by a strict eye, and quick retribution. Oh, pity, pity!--what was justice to such as me? and what would become of me who dared to judge others, if God dealt with myself only as I deserved?