“My God!” said Stefan, suddenly blanching. He had not faced this moment, had not thought about it, had indeed hardly thought about Mary's motherhood at all except to deplore its toll upon her bodily beauty. He had tried for her sake, harder than she knew, to appear sympathetic, but in his heart the whole thing presented itself as nature's grotesque price for the early rapture of their love. That the price might be tragic as well as grotesque had only now come home to him. He dropped on a chair, his memory flying back to the one other such event in which he had had part. He saw himself thrust from his mother's door--he heard her shrieks--felt himself fly again into the rain. His forehead was wet; cold tingles ran to his fingertips. The nurse's voice sounded, calm and pleasant, above him. A whiff of brandy met his nostrils. “You'd better drink this, Mr. Byrd, and then in a minute you might go and see Mrs. Byrd. You will feel better after that, I think.” He drank, then looked up, haggard. “They'll give her plenty of chloroform, won't they?” he whispered, catching the nurse's hand. She smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry, Mr. Byrd, your wife is in splendid condition, and ether will certainly be given when it becomes advisable.” The brandy was working now and his nerves had steadied, but he found the nurse's manner maddeningly calm. “I'll go to Mary,” he muttered, and, brushing past her, sprang up the stairs. What he expected to see he did not know, but his heart pounded as he opened the bedroom door. The room was bright with lamplight, and in spotless order. At her small writing-table sat Mary, in a loose white dressing gown, her hair in smooth braids around her head, writing. What was she doing? Was she leaving some last message for him, in case--? He felt himself grow cold again. “Mary!” he exclaimed hoarsely. She looked round, and called joyfully to him. “Oh, darling, there you are. I'm getting everything ready. It's coming, Stefan dearest. I'm so happy!” Her face was excited, radiant. He ran to her with a groan of relief, and, kneeling, caught her face to his. “Oh, Beautiful, you're all right then? She told me--I was afraid--” he stumbled, inarticulate. She stroked his cheek comfortingly. “Dearest, isn't it wonderful--just think--by to-morrow our baby will be here.” She kissed him, between happy tears and laughter. “You are not in pain, darling? You're all right? What were you writing when I came in?” he stammered, anxiously. “I'm putting all the accounts straight, and paying all the bills to date, so that Lily won't have any trouble while I'm laid up,” she beamed. Stefan stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, then burst into half-hysterical laughter. “Oh, you marvel,” he gasped, “goddess of efficiency, unshakable Olympian! Bills! And I thought you were writing me a farewell message.”