ve decided that it is best. I must meet fate anyway, and I may
as well do it boldly, with a direct challenge. The name won't make any
difference to the baby, and it may help to make me more patient and
forgiving."

Gently Bobby laid the baby back into Beatrix's arms. Then he rose.

"No," he said slowly; "it won't make any difference, and it gives the
chance of bringing the name back to its old standing. You may take lots
of comfort with the boy, Beatrix. I hope so with all my heart, for I
know how you need it. Things have gone rather against you, these last
months; but perhaps the bad times are all over now." At the door, he
lingered and looked back. "If you need me at Monomoy, Beatrix, don't
hesitate to send for me. Sometimes it is a comfort to have somebody of
one's own generation within hail."

Six weeks later, she realized the truth of his words when Bobby came
striding into the room, with the family doctor at his heels. For the
past forty-eight hours, Beatrix had watched convulsion after convulsion
rack the tiny frame, wear itself out and die away, only to be followed
by another and yet another. Under this new sorrow, the grandparents had
given way entirely. They were powerless to help, and Beatrix, pitying
their misery which she knew was more than half for her sake, had sent
them away from the room. For forty-eight hours, she and the nurse had
kept an unbroken vigil; and Beatrix had held herself steady until she
had caught sight of Bobby's strong, happy, pitiful face in the doorway.

When she came to herself once more, she was lying on the couch in the
hall, with Bobby beside her and Bobby's protecting arm around her
shoulders.

"It may not be so bad, dear," he was saying soothingly. "Schirmer will
pull him through, if anybody can, and he says it isn't at all hopeless.
Lots of youngsters have convulsions and come out of them, jolly as
grigs."

Beatrix saw no need for telling him the new fear which had tortured her,
during those endless hours of waiting after she had sent off her
telegram. Instead, she took his sympathy as it was given, with loving
optimism; but she nestled even more closely against her cousin's side,
as if for the hour she gained strength from the touch of his protecting
arm. It was her one spot of perfect restfulness.

Late that night, Bobby had a talk with the doctor. It left him glad that
already he had spoken with encouragement to Beatrix. The next two days,
he gave his time to her abs