ng now, tucked
into a great easy chair, while his lace-curtained crib was given up to
a younger, tinier baby, who sucked his thumb and did _not_ sleep. Both
babies frowned and choked and sneezed over their respective father's
kisses or whiskers, or both. Both appeared in all their glory at the
dinner table; and all the bright happy company were in blissful
ignorance of a scene so nearly similar that had occurred when the
supposed young heir of Hastings' Hall reached the close of his first
year. Yet this _was_ different, for Mr. Stephens asked a blessing on
this bright glad scene, and Dr. Birge returned thanks for the joy and
beauty of the day, and the health and hopes of these two babies were
remembered in glasses of sparkling water.

And the supposed heir of other days was the fond proud father of the
precious crowing bundle now pulling at his beard. What cared he for
Hastings' Hall? It was a fine old place enough, and he had enjoyed
coming there every day of his life; but his own bright home was just
around the corner, and contained more life and joy and beauty than did
all Cleveland. So he thought.

"What have you named your babies?" questioned a chance caller.

"This is Master Pliny Hastings Mallery at your service," responded
Theodore, tossing his boy aloft until he tried to reach the ceiling and
yelled with glee. While Winny, after glancing at her husband's face and
noting his moved look, answered simply: "We call ours Baby Ben."

After Dr. and Mrs. Birge, and he who called himself Grandfather
Stephens, had departed, they went, these two fathers, to the room above,
where the babies cuddled and slept, and the loving mothers watched and
talked. They all went over and stood by the crib and the easy chair.

"Let us have a special celebration of this day," said Theodore. "Let us
consecrate these two boys anew to the beloved Giver of all our
blessedness."

Then they all knelt down, each husband encircling with one arm the form
of his honored wife, and resting the other hand on the forehead of his
darling, and Theodore first, then Pliny, laid their hearts' dearest
treasures at the feet of their common Lord.

"We are very happy," Dora said, when they had risen, still clinging to
her husband's hand.

"Very happy," answered Theodore, clasping tenderly the dear true hand.
"And it is a happiness that will continue whatever comes, so we remain
always at the feet of the Master and keep our treasures there."

Pliny wa