er shoulders--and of
baby. She has told you that there are two of me, now, John--my baby, as
well as myself."

John could only nod an assent; he could not speak.

"It's a wonderful thing to come out of a wreck with a treasure in one's
arms; everything going to pieces behind one; the rafters coming down,
the walls falling in and yet one's treasure in one's arms. Oh, I had not
the heart or the strength to come out of the tumbling house. My mother
did it all, dragged me out, wrapped me up in love and kindness, carried
me away. I don't want you to think I was good for anything. I should
just have lain there and died. One thing, I did not mind dying at all--I
had quite made up my mind. That would not have been so disgraceful as
running away."

"There is nothing that is disgraceful," said John, "for heaven's sake
don't say so, Nelly. It is unfortunate--beyond words--but that is all.
Nobody can think that you are in any way disgraced. And if you are
allowed just to stay quietly here in your natural home, I suppose you
desire nothing more."

"What should I desire more, John? You don't suppose I should like to go
and live in the world again, and go into society and all that? I have
had about enough of society. Oh, I want nothing but to be quiet and
unmolested, and bring up my baby. They could not take my baby from me,
John?"

"I do not think so," he said, with a grave face.

"You do not--think so? Then you are not _sure_? My mother says dreadful
things, but I cannot believe them. They would never take an infant from
its mother to give it to--to give it to--a man--who could do nothing,
nothing for it. What could a man do with a young child? a man always on
the move, who has no settled home, who has no idea what an infant wants?
John, I know law is inhuman, but surely, surely not so inhuman as that."

"My dear Nelly," he said, "the law, you know, which, as you say, is
often inhuman, recognizes the child as belonging to the father. He is
responsible for it. For instance, they never could come upon you for its
maintenance or education, or anything of that kind, until it had been
proved that the father----"

"May I ask," said Elinor, with uplifted head, "of what or of whom you
are talking when you say _it_?"

It was all John could do not to burst into a peal of aggrieved and
indignant laughter. He who had been brought from town, from his own
comforts such as they were, to be consulted about this brat, this child
which bel