"By the way, talking of the family circle, I have to congratulate you, Lady Errington, on the birth of a son." Alizon's eyes, which had hardened while looking at Guy, grew wondrous soft and tender. "Yes!--he is the dearest child in the world--everyone loves him except his father." "What nonsense Alizon!" said Guy, hastily turning towards his wife. "I'm very fond of him indeed, but one gets tired of babies." "I daresay, but not of their own children," answered Lady Errington indignantly. "You must see him, Mr. Gartney, and I'm sure you'll say you never saw such a lovely child." She arose from her seat and left the room quickly, while Eustace looked reproachfully at Guy. "You shouldn't talk like that," he said quietly, "I don't wonder you find things disagreeable if you sneer at the child." "I don't sneer at the child," retorted Guy sullenly, "but I'm tired of hearing nothing but baby chatter all day long." "Perhaps, if you were as attentive to the baby as your wife, it would be advisable." "Nonsense! I can't be on my knees before a cradle all day, and besides Alizon won't let me come near it. One would think I was going to murder the child the way she looks at me when I lay a finger on it." "Mr. Gartney," said Lady Errington's voice at the door. "Come upstairs with me to the nursery." "Can't I come to Paradise also?" observed Guy wistfully as his cousin was leaving the room. "Certainly, come if you care to," replied Alizon coldly. "No, thank you," replied Errington abruptly, his brow growing black with rage at the coldness of the invitation. "I'll stay here till you return." Lady Errington went upstairs slowly with Eustace, with a look of anger on her face. "You see," she said bitterly, pausing at the nursery door, "he does not care a bit about his child." "Oh, I think he does," answered Eustace discreetly, "but he thought you did not want him to come." "I am always glad for him to come," remarked Alizon coldly, "but when he does he only makes disagreeable remarks about the boy, so his visits are never very pleasant." Things were decidedly wrong between this young couple, and they so thoroughly misunderstood one another that Eustace was at a loss how to set them right. He was saved the trouble of further thought, however, by Lady Errington opening the door and preceding him into the nursery. "There he is, Mr. Gartney," said the young mother, "look at my precious." "My precious," in all the glory of white hat, white cape and woolly gloves and shoes, was seated in his perambulator ready to go out for his airing, and Mrs. Tasker, with the under-nurse, were both attached to the wheels of his chariot. At the sight of Gartney's bronzed face, he set up a howl, and was only pacified by being taken out of his carriage into the protecting arms of his mother. "The complete Madonna now," thought Eustace, as he looked at the flushed face of the young mother bending over the rosy one of the child.