“Why do you let that great tomfool call you by your first name, Mary?” he demanded, almost before the front door was shut. “Wallace is one of the kindest men alive, and I'm quite devoted to him. I admit, though, that he seems to enjoy teasing you.” “Teasing me!” Stefan scoffed; “it's like an elephant teasing a fly. He obliterates me.” “Well, don't be an old crosspatch,” she smiled, determined now they were alone again to make the most of him. “You are a good sort, Mary,” he said, smiling in reply; “it's restful to be with you. Sing to me, won't you?” He stretched luxuriously on the sofa. She obeyed, glad enough of the now rare opportunity of pleasing him. Farraday had brought her some Norse ballads not long before; their sad elfin cadences had charmed her. She sang these now, touching the piano lightly for fear of waking the sleeping baby overhead. Turning to Stefan at the end, she found him sound asleep, one arm drooping over the sofa, the nervous lines of his face smoothed like a tired child's. For some reason she felt strangely pitiful toward him. “He must be very tired, poor boy,” she thought. Crossing to the kitchen, she warned Lily not to enter the sitting room, and herself slipped upstairs to the baby. Stefan slept till dinner time, and for the rest of the evening was unusually kind and quiet. As they went up to bed Mary turned wistfully to him. “Wouldn't you like to look at Elliston? You haven't seen him for a long time.” “Bless me, I suppose I haven't--let's take a peep at him.” Together they bent over the cradle. “Why, he's looking quite human. I think he must have grown!” his father whispered, apparently surprised. “Does he make much noise at night nowadays, Mary?” “No, hardly any. He just whimpers at about two o'clock, and I get up and nurse him. Then he sleeps till after six.” “If you don't mind, then,” said Stefan, “I think I will sleep with you to-night. I feel as if it would rest me.” “Of course, dearest.” She felt herself blushing. Was she really going to be loved again? She smiled happily at him. When they were in bed Stefan curled up childishly, and putting one arm about her, fell asleep almost instantly, his head upon her shoulder. Mary lay, too happy for sleep, listening to his quiet breathing, until her shoulder ached and throbbed under his head. She would not move for fear of waking him, and remained wide-eyed and motionless until her baby's voice called to her. Then, with infinite care, she slipped away, her arm and shoulder numb, but her heart lighter than it had been for many weeks.