t him under that shawl?"

"Yes; is he not good?" returned Fay, proudly; she had forgotten Hugh's
coldness now, as she drew back the flimsy covering and showed him the
tiny fair face within her arms. "There, is he not a beauty? Nurse says
she has never seen a finer baby boy for his size. He is small now, but
he will grow; he has such long feet and hands that, she assures me, he
will be a tall man. Mrs. Heron says he is a thorough Redmond. Look at
his hair like floss silk, only finer; and he has your forehead, dear,
and your eyes. Oh, he will be just like his father, the darling!"

"Will he?" returned Hugh, dubiously, and he touched him rather
awkwardly--he had never noticed a baby closely before, and he was not
much impressed with his son's appearance; there was such a redness, he
thought, and no features to be called features, and he had such a
ridiculous button of a mouth. "Do you really call him a fine baby,
Fay?"

"Fine! I should think so; the smallness does not matter a bit. You
will be a big man some time, my beauty, for you are the very image of
your father."

"Heaven forbid!" ejaculated Hugh; he was quite appalled at the notion
of any likeness between this absurd specimen of humanity and himself;
but happily the little mother did not hear him, for she was adjusting
the long robe to her liking.

"There, you must take him, Hugh; I want to see him once more in your
arms--my two treasures together;" and she held the baby to him.

Hugh did not see how the weak arms trembled under their load, as he
retreated a few steps in most genuine alarm.

"I take him! My dear, I never held a baby in my life; I should be
afraid of dropping him; no, let him stop with his mother. Women
understand these sort of things. There, now, I thought so, he is going
to cry;" and Hugh's discomfited look was not lost on Fay, as the
baby's shrill voice spoke well for his strength of lungs.

"Oh, hush, hush," she said, nearly crying herself, and rocking the
baby to and fro feebly. "You spoke so loudly, Hugh, you frightened
him; he never cries so when we are alone."

"You will be alone directly if you do not send him away," was her
husband's impatient answer; "it is not pleasant for a man to be
deafened when he is tired after a long journey. Why, I do believe you
are going to cry too, Fay; what is the good of a nurse if you exhaust
yourself like this?" And he pulled the bell-rope angrily.

"Oh, please don't send my baby away," she implor