he thought of life with him less tolerable even
than it was before. Only the longing to see her baby made return
seem possible. Ah, well--she would get used to it all again! But the
anticipation of his eyes fixed on her, then sliding away from the
meeting with her eyes, of all--of all that would begin again, suddenly
made her shiver. She was very near to loathing at that moment. He, the
father of her baby! The thought seemed ridiculous and strange. That
little creature seemed to bind him to her no more than if it were the
offspring of some chance encounter, some pursuit of nymph by faun.
No! It was hers alone. And a sudden feverish longing to get back to it
overpowered all other thought. This longing grew in her so all night
that at breakfast she told her father. Swallowing down whatever his
feeling may have been, he said:

"Very well, my child; I'll come up with you."

Putting her into the cab in London, he asked:

"Have you still got your key of Bury Street? Good! Remember, Gyp--any
time day or night--there it is for you."

She had wired to Fiorsen from Mildenham that she was coming, and she
reached home soon after three. He was not in, and what was evidently her
telegram lay unopened in the hall. Tremulous with expectation, she ran
up to the nursery. The pathetic sound of some small creature that cannot
tell what is hurting it, or why, met her ears. She went in, disturbed,
yet with the half-triumphant thought: 'Perhaps that's for me!'

Betty, very flushed, was rocking the cradle, and examining the baby's
face with a perplexed frown. Seeing Gyp, she put her hand to her side,
and gasped:

"Oh, be joyful! Oh, my dear! I AM glad. I can't do anything with baby
since the morning. Whenever she wakes up, she cries like that. And till
to-day she's been a little model. Hasn't she! There, there!"

Gyp took up the baby, whose black eyes fixed themselves on her mother in
a momentary contentment; but, at the first movement, she began again her
fretful plaint. Betty went on:

"She's been like that ever since this morning. Mr. Fiorsen's been in
more than once, ma'am, and the fact is, baby don't like it. He stares at
her so. But this morning I thought--well--I thought: 'You're her father.
It's time she was getting used to you.' So I let them be a minute; and
when I came back--I was only just across to the bathroom--he was comin'
out lookin' quite fierce and white, and baby--oh, screamin'! And except
for sleepin', she's hardl