darling, as I hold you!' He
could hardly speak from emotion. She went on:

'And oh, my dear, you will not grieve that she is not a son to carry on
your name?' And then a sudden light came into her eyes; and there was
exultation in her weak voice as she said:

'She is to be our only one; let her be indeed our son! Call her the name
we both love!' For answer he rose and laid his hand very, very tenderly
on the babe as he said:

'This dear one, my sweet wife, who will carry your soul in her breast,
will be my son; the only son I shall ever have. All my life long I
shall, please Almighty God, so love her--our little Stephen--as you and I
love each other!'

She laid her hand on his so that it touched at once her husband and her
child. Then she raised the other weak arm, and placed it round his neck,
and their lips met. Her soul went out in this last kiss.

CHAPTER II--THE HEART OF A CHILD

For some weeks after his wife's death Squire Norman was overwhelmed with
grief. He made a brave effort, however, to go through the routine of his
life; and succeeded so far that he preserved an external appearance of
bearing his loss with resignation. But within, all was desolation.

Little Stephen had winning ways which sent deep roots into her father's
heart. The little bundle of nerves which the father took into his arms
must have realised with all its senses that, in all that it saw and heard
and touched, there was nothing but love and help and protection.
Gradually the trust was followed by expectation. If by some chance the
father was late in coming to the nursery the child would grow impatient
and cast persistent, longing glances at the door. When he came all was
joy.

Time went quickly by, and Norman was only recalled to its passing by the
growth of his child. Seedtime and harvest, the many comings of nature's
growth were such commonplaces to him, and had been for so many years,
that they made on him no impressions of comparison. But his baby was one
and one only. Any change in it was not only in itself a new experience,
but brought into juxtaposition what is with what was. The changes that
began to mark the divergence of sex were positive shocks to him, for they
were unexpected. In the very dawn of babyhood dress had no special
import; to his masculine eyes sex was lost in youth. But, little by
little, came the tiny changes which convention has established. And with
each change came to Squire