They were silent after that for a little while, and then Bess dropped
to sleep, and Olive crossed to Bea's side, as the gentlemen were heard
coming from the library.

"Let me take her up stairs, Bea--you look tired;" and Bea handed the
precious charge over, and Olive went slowly up stairs, with her arms
tenderly clasped about the little form, her cheeks laid to the soft baby
face, and a look in her eyes that mother might have read had she seen
it.

The sleepers already there, and sprawled about in characteristic
attitudes, was a sight to hold one's gaze.

Philip lay perfectly straight and orderly, with a sober countenance, and
both hands crossed on his little stomach; while Tom, the tumbler, had
completely reversed himself, and lay with his feet on the pillow, his
body in a snarl, and his head just ready to fall off the edge with the
next jerk. Louise had dispensed with her pillow, it was on the floor,
while she lay in the sweetest possible attitude, with one tiny hand
under the dimpled cheek, on which the long, dark lashes rested softly,
and one wee snowy little foot peeped out of the clothes. Olive laid the
baby in its nest, and covered it warmly, bending many times to kiss the
rosy little face; then she righted Tom, restored the pillow, and removed
some of Philip's covering, as he seemed to be too warm; and then she
stood still looking at them.

Was she perfectly happy, and quite content?

The pale light that fell across her, as she stood there watching the
sleepers, with eyes that were traitorously expressive, would have made a
very dear picture to one pair of eyes, had they not been too far away to
rest on. The grey dress which she wore, fell in colorless draperies, and
the soft laces at her throat and wrists, were very becoming to the clear
skin. In the rich dark hair, was a white flower, that touched the tip of
her ear as with a caress; but greatest of all was the eyes, that were
growing dim with tears, as she stood there. The feeling that was in her
heart was no new one, but to-night it came differently from what it ever
had before. Then it had only been a half defined loneliness that could
be quenched with a little effort, and pass without a name; but to-night
it came surging up and assumed shape and title before her eyes. She had
no claim on these little ones; she would never be able to stand so and
watch one of her own in its innocent sleep. Would never feel the tender
happiness of knowing that her blo