With the rosy dawn of the summer day consciousness returned to Bruce Conway--a dazed, half-consciousness, though, that only took in part of the scene, and a memory that only held Grace Winans. He muttered of her in his distracted slumbers; he waked and asked for her with a piteous anxiety that went to Lulu's tender heart. "Had we better send for her?" she wistfully queried of her brother. "No, indeed, little sister; it would only complicate matters. She would not come; he does not deserve it. Poor boy! I am sorry, but we can do nothing." "Nothing, brother?" "To bring her here, I mean. Try to reason with him, Lulu, and talk him out of this feverish fancy." "Grace--Gracie!" came in a whisper from the bed. Lulu was by him in an instant. "Will not I do as well as Grace?" "No." His pallid brow contracted in a vexed frown. "Go away; you are not Grace." "No, but I am Willard's sister. Cannot you like me a little for his sake, and not worry yourself so much?" she asked, gently and persuasively. "Cannot you get Grace to come--won't you try?" he whispered, in a faint voice. A low tinkle of the door-bell seemed to echo his words. Half raising his handsome head, he looked at her eagerly. "That may be Grace now," he said. "Won't you go and see?" "Yes," she answered, gently, though she sighed as she went; "I will go and see." She started in astonishment when she opened the door. Outside was a pleasant-faced Irishwoman, dressed plainly and neatly, with a pretty babe in her arms. It was Mrs. Winans' nurse and child. Grace had learned from Miss Story where Bruce was, and when Norah went out to take the little boy for his morning airing, she had directed her to call and inquire of Captain Clendenon how Mr. Conway was getting on. Norah introduced herself and her business briefly and clearly, and Lulu invited her in and gave her a seat. "And this is Mrs. Winans' baby?" she said, taking the beautiful boy from the nurse's arms and kissing his rosy face. "How lovely he is!" Little Paul smiled fearlessly back at her, and something in the dark flash of his eyes so vividly recalled his father that she thought suddenly of Bruce Conway waiting up stairs for her. "I will bring my brother down to tell you exactly how Mr. Conway is," she said; and turning away with the little bundle of lace, and cambric, and laughing babyhood in her arms, she went back to Bruce Conway's room. Her brother looked surprised at the strange little visitor. She smiled and went up to the bedside, holding triumphantly up the tiny baby that, quite unabashed by the strange scene, jumped, and crowed, and smiled brilliantly at Bruce. "Mrs. Winans did not come, but she sent her representative, Mr. Conway," she said, thinking it would please him to see the pretty child. "This is her son."