a sort of tumult within him.
He felt angry, he did not know why. His whole body was longing to do
something strong, eager, even violent. He hated his latchkey, he hated
the long stroll in Hyde Park, the absurd delay upon the bridge, his
preoccupation with the Muscovy duck, or whatever bird it was, voyaging
over the Serpentine. Why had nothing told him not to lose a moment but
to hurry home? He remembered that he had been specially reluctant to
leave Rosamund that evening, that he had even said to her, "I don't know
why it is, but this evening I hate to leave you." Perhaps, then, he had
been warned, but he had not comprehended the warning. As he had looked
at the stars he had thought of the coming of the most wonderful Child
who had ever visited this earth. Perhaps then, too----He tried to
snap off his thought, half confusedly accusing himself of some sort of
blasphemy. At the top of the staircase he turned and looked down into
the hall.

"The nurse?"

"Sir?"

"Have you managed to get the nurse?"

"Yes, sir; she's been here some time."

At this moment Doctor Mayson opened the door of Rosamund's room and came
out upon the landing--a tall, rosy and rather intellectual-looking
man, with tranquil gray eyes, and hair thinning above the high knobby
forehead. Dion had never seen him before. They shook hands.

"I shouldn't go into your wife's room," said Doctor Mayson in a low bass
voice.

"Why? Doesn't she wish it?"

"She wished you very much to be in the house."

"Then why not send for me?"

"She was against it, I understand. And she doesn't wish any one to be
with her just now except the nurse and myself."

"When do you expect? . . ."

"Some time during the night. It's evidently going to be an easy
confinement. I'm just going down to send away my carriage. It's no use
keeping the horse standing half the night in this frost. I'm very fond
of horses."

"Fond of horses--are you?" said Dion, rather vacantly.

"Yes. Are you?"

The low bass voice almost snapped out the question.

"Oh, I dare say. Why not? They're useful animals. I'll come down with
you if I'm not to go into my wife's room."

He followed the doctor down the stairs he had just mounted. When the
carriage had been sent away, he asked Doctor Mayson to come into his den
for a moment. The pains of labor had come on unexpectedly, but were not
exceptionally severe; everything pointed to an easy confinement.

"Your wife is one of the strongest and he