cle, the foreshadowing of greater
miracles to come. And to her was manifested, also, a minor miracle, for
when his father had gone, the child looked at his mother and gave out
his first recorded utterance.

"'Oo _is_ God?" he said.

Ellen Mary tried to explain, but before she had stammered out many
words, her son abstracted his gaze, climbed down out of the chair, and
intimated with his usual grunt that he desired his bath and his bed.

II

The depths of Stott were stirred that night. He had often said that "he
wouldn't stand it much longer," but the words were a mere formula: he
had never even weighed their intention. As he paced the Common, he
muttered them again to the night, with new meaning; he saw new
possibilities, and saw that they were practicable. "I've 'ad enough,"
was his new phrase, and he added another that gave evidence of a new
attitude. "Why not?" he said again and again. "And why not?"

Stott's mind was not analytical. He did not examine his problem, weigh
this and that and draw a balanced deduction. He merely saw a picture of
peace and quiet, in a room at Ailesworth, in convenient proximity to his
work (he made an admirable groundsman and umpire, his work absorbed him)
and, perhaps, he conceived some dim ideal of pleasant evenings spent in
the companionship of those who thought in the same terms as himself;
who shared in his one interest; whose speech was of form, averages, the
preparation of wickets, and all the detail of cricket.

Stott's ambition to have a son and to teach him the mysteries of his
father's success had been dwindling for some time past. On this night it
was finally put aside. Stott's "I've 'ad enough" may be taken to include
that frustrated ideal. No more experiments for him, was the
pronouncement that summed up his decision.

Still there were difficulties. Economically he was free, he could allow
his wife thirty shillings a week, more than enough for her support and
that of her child; but--what would she say, how would she take his
determination? A determination it was, not a proposal. And the
neighbours, what would they say? Stott anticipated a fuss. "She'll say
I've married 'er, and it's my duty to stay by 'er," was his anticipation
of his wife's attitude. He did not profess to understand the ways of the
sex, but some rumours of misunderstandings between husbands and wives of
his own class had filtered through his absorption in cricket.

He stumbled home with a mind pr