Together they went through the house on a tour of inspection, while lunch was preparing. Each room called for comment and fresh expressions of delight. They came to their bedroom last. George sat on the side of the bed while Esme removed her hat and gave little touches and pats to her hair, standing before the mirror and surveying her appearance critically. She discovered a tiny powder puff and dabbed her face with it. These mysteries of the toilet interested George profoundly. He disapproved of the puff. "I can't understand why you do that," he said. "Your skin's all right." "We do a lot of incomprehensible things," she returned, laughing at him. "Men shave, for instance, though nature intended them to wear hair on the face." "That's one up to you, old dear," he said, and got up and seized her by the shoulders and kissed her. "It's rather jolly to be in our own home. It was nice being away together; but this... Esme, I feel extraordinarily happy. It seems too good to be true, too good to last. It's great." "Silly old duffer!" she said, smiling back into his eager eyes. "Why should the good things be less enduring than the evil?" "Put like that, I don't see why they should be," he responded. "Wise little woman! we will make our good time last for all our lives." Book 4--CHAPTER THIRTY. Time passed, and the Sinclair menage increased its numbers by one. A baby girl was born to Esme, and was christened, despite its father's protests, Georgina. The baby ruled the household, and tyrannised over its parents, and made slaves of its godparents, who were amazingly interested in this small cousin of theirs. Mary, a pretty girl of nineteen, with all her sex's partiality for babies, worshipped at the shrine of the new arrival; John, with masculine mistrust of humanity in miniature, regarded the infant doubtfully, until, with its further development, it captivated him with its smile. From the moment when the baby first smiled at him, John lost his awe of it. He found it infinitely more amusing than any puppy. He carried it about the garden, bundled under one arm like a parcel, to its intense gratification. It was a good-tempered mite, and seldom cried. The coming of her baby brought complete happiness to Esme. It entirely changed the current of her thoughts, and drew her closer in love and sympathy to George, cementing their union with the strongest bond which married life can forge. Her love for George, as the father of her child, became a fine and tender emotion. She loved him in relation to the child. The great desire of her life was granted. She had her baby: life could give her no greater happiness.