"Well, perhaps I shall be, if it is as pretty as its mother, and does not become the proverbial nuisance," he returned, smilingly dismissing the subject. Edith's mind traveled back to a conversation with Betty. "You know, Edith dear," Betty had said, "in Ephraim, everyone has a large family, and the parents love their children above everything else. It makes everyone, young and old, so happy and busy." But Edith's disappointment found consolation in the unbounded joy of her parents. In their anticipation of having a grandchild, they promised all kinds of wonderful things for its reception into the world, and its journey through it. However, they were not destined to have their fond hopes realized. Two months before the eagerly looked-for date, Mrs. Esterbrook became seriously ill. Their own family physician seemed unable to diagnose the case. Frankly admitting the fact, he called for a consultation, after which the doctor smilingly assured Edith and Mr. Esterbrook, that he hoped for a speedy recovery. In spite of his optimism, Mrs. Esterbrook became steadily worse. Specialist after specialist was called in, all pronouncing new ailments and agreeing to disagree. These were fearfully trying days to Edith, but she did not realize any real danger for her mother. She was more concerned about her father, whose heart was hardly able to bear the worry of his wife's long illness and suffering. Finally, Mrs. Esterbrook seemed to take a decided turn for the better. Edith returned to her home to attend to necessary duties, which she had neglected during the month past. During that time, she had watched almost constantly by her mother's bedside. It was a cold dreary day when Edith, fatigued with her day's work, sought her pillow for a short sleep. "Just an hour," she said to herself, "and then I will dress and go to mother's." But she could not rest. Evidently she was overtired. She lay upon her couch, gazing dreamily through the window at the heavy snow-drifts without. It was March, The wind blew the fluffy white specks in all directions, and made a cold, dreary scene. Edith's heart was strangely heavy. She ought to be joyous at her mother's change for the better, but somehow her heart held a chill forboding, and she began to weep softly. She felt very much alone today. Her husband had been away for one week--a combination of business and pleasure had taken him. He was compelled to go, but he might have returned two days sooner, if he had not accepted an invitation to a week-end. Of course she could no go, but that was no reason why he should not. Edith agreed to this. She was always with her mother anyway. She could not wish him to stay at home for her, yet, today she wished he had--she was so lonely! "I never could have enjoyed it without Howard," she thought restlessly.