"Well, go on. Tell me all about it." "It's this way, Miss Doane. I'm only a poor doctor without much of a practise, and it'll take me several years to work into a good one. And Daphne--you know how she has been brought up--and the kind of things she is used to having--and the crowd she goes with--" "What's that got to do with it?" "I--you must see, Miss Doane--that I can't give Daphne the things she is used to and that she'd quite likely expect as a matter of course--not that she is any more mercenary than any of the rest of the girls of her set, but she doesn't understand not being rich--she has never known anything else--" "Oh, stuff and nonsense! I know Daphne." "Yes, but her people; her father--and, O Lord, Miss Doane--her mother--" "I confess she is some pill to take; but there's one consolation--you don't have to live with your mother-in-law in these times, and you ain't marryin' the hull family. Is that all?" "No--but, then--" "But then _what?_ There is somethin' else?" "Yes, there is, Miss Doane. I guess--I--I am old-fashioned, but I want a home-wife--a woman who'll love babies, and have them and not feel that they are an impediment to her career. I--I'm--a little dippy on children--I guess--" He laughed a little shamefacedly. "I want babies in my home--babies that'll climb around me when I come from work--boys and girls that I can love and do for and see grow up into men and women, that'll make me feel that I have really done something for the world--and--and the way Daphne's been brought up--well, her set don't believe in babies--and--rather think motherhood is degrading--and--" They had came to a corner of the veranda overlooking the part of the lawn where a merry group of little children were playing ring-a-round-a-rosy, and a tall, laughing girl was standing in the middle of the ring, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling, as the clear young voice sang the simple play song. The doctor's face softened and he forgot what he was saying. They stood there a while, watching the happy group. Then, the children becoming tired of the game, Daphne sat down in a rocking-chair under a tree, and they grouped themselves around her feet. She took one of the tiniest into her lap and, cuddling it against her breast, began to rock slowly backward and forward. The words of the old lullaby came softly: "Rock-a-bye, baby, On the tree-top, When the wind blows The cradle will rock--" Drusilla looked up at Dr. Eaton and her face broke into tiny little love wrinkles as she saw the look on his face. She put her faded old hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes for a long moment; then she said softly: "Go on, my boy; and God bless you!" And the doctor went. CHAPTER XVIII At three o'clock on July 16th, there met in the Doane library Mr. Carrington, Mr. Raydon--the multi-millionaire and great friend of Drusilla's--Mr. Thornton, Dr. Eaton, and half a dozen of the residents of Brookvale.