"Her son!" Bruce Conway's eyes dwelt a moment on that picture of rosy health and beauty, and a shudder shook him from head to foot. "Her child! his child! Take it away from me, Miss Clendenon. I hate it! I hate her!" Lulu recoiled in terror at the sharp, angry tones and the jealous pain and madness that gleamed in his eyes. She turned away surprised and frightened at the mischief she had done, and was about to leave the room. "Lulu, let me see the baby," said her brother's voice, as she reached the door. His tones wore strangely moved, and as he came across to her she noted the faint flush that colored his high forehead. He took it in his arms and looked long and earnestly at the little face, finding amid its darker beauty many infantile beauties borrowed from the fair lineaments of its mother. "God bless you, little baby," he said, touching reverent lips to the innocent brow, with a prayer in his heart for her whose brow was so mirrored in that of her child that he flushed, then paled, as he kissed it, thinking of hers that his lips might never press. He loved the child for its mother's sake. Bruce hated it for its father's sake. It was a fair exponent of the character of the two men. He gave it quietly back to Lulu, but she, explaining her errand sent him to tell Norah, with the child in his arms, while she went back to soothe the irritated invalid. "I am sorry," she began, penitently, "I would not have brought the babe, but I thought, I fancied, that you would like it for its mother's sake. Forgive me." The moody anger in his eyes cleared at sound of her magical, silver-sweet tones. "Forgive _me_," he said, feebly. "I was a brute to speak to a lady so--but I was not myself. You don't understand a man's feelings in such a case, Miss Clendenon. Thank you for that forgiving smile." He caught up the little hand gently straightening his tumbled pillows, and with feeble, pallid gallantry, touched it to his lips. A shiver of bitter-sweet emotion thrilled the young girl as she hastily drew it away. "You must not talk any more," she said, gently, "or brother will scold, and the surgeon, too. Brother will be back in a minute, so be quiet. Don't let anything occupy your mind, and try, do, to go to sleep and rest." She put her finger to her lip and nodded archly at him. He smiled back, and half-closing his eyes, lay looking at her as she took a chair at the other end of the room, and busied herself with a bit of fancy work. "How pretty she is," he thought, vaguely, and when he fell into a fitful slumber, her fair face blent with Grace's in his dreams, and bewildered him with its bright, enchanting beauty. CHAPTER VIII. "BUT AS FOR HER, SHE STAID AT HOME." To aid thy mind's development, to watch The dawn of little joys, to sit and see Almost thy very growth, to view thee catch Knowledge of objects, wonders yet to see! To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee, And print on thy soft cheek a parent's kiss.