“Anna still feels that she cannot get away without the baby, Ella dear,” he said gently, seating himself on the edge of a chair, like a poor relation in a fine drawing room. “And really, I see her difficulty. As a matter of fact, the girl has added one member--a complete stranger with no claim whatever--to a rather straitened household and she doesn’t wish her mother to feel the burden unduly. And certainly Mrs. Miller had a difficult time when her children were small and----” His wife broke in almost fiercely. “Russell Langley! I tell you that I cannot get along without seeing Anna at least every Saturday,” she cried. He sighed as he pushed back a bit further on the chair, though not enough to be comfortable. “Well, Ella, why not let her bring him along--why not try it just for once?” he asked quietly. “He’s really a beautiful child. (The minister was quite sincere.) He sat on my lap all the while I was there, quiet as a mouse, and the first I knew the little fellow was feeling for my watch. I only wish you could have seen his face, dear, as I held it to his ear. Do let Anna bring him on Saturday!” “I couldn’t bear the shock of it,” she said dully as if repeating a formula, then suddenly enquired: “Russell, where’s my watch?” “In the top drawer of my desk. I wind it every night. Would you like it, Ella?” She assented rather sharply and he fetched it. Now he seated himself comfortably and taking the key from his chain, wound the watch and set it exactly by his own and put it on the stand with the medicine bottles and the photograph of the lamb. “She’s a stubborn girl, that Anna Miller,” his wife remarked. “She means well,” he returned absently in conventional phrase, his mind being otherwise engaged as he presently showed. “I have it!” he exclaimed suddenly, holding his watch from him as if he had discovered the clue to the mystery in it. “Anna can bring the baby with her, but you needn’t see him--you needn’t realise that he’s in the house at all; and you wouldn’t, he’s such a mouse. And I’ll mind him while Anna visits you. He knows me--I think he rather takes to me, you know, and I can carry him all over the house and show him everything. I fancy the little chap might rather like the statuette on the parlour clock and--O, the elves on the silver water-pitcher! And there’s my crystal paper weight. And perhaps when I’m over in Wenham I will just step into Wetherell’s and see what they have in the way of toys. Boys generally----” But Mrs. Langley made a sudden move. “Russell Langley!” she cried. “If that baby comes to this house, he shall come straight to my room. He can have my watch to play with. He can’t hurt it, and if he bites the case, I don’t care.”