rpose,
conceived since his morning walk, and deepened as he had followed,
during his narrative, the changing expression of Rena's face and noted
her intense interest in his story, her pride in his successes, and the
occasional wistful look that indexed her self-pity so completely.

"An' I s'pose you're happy, John?" asked his mother.

"Well, mother, happiness is a relative term, and depends, I imagine,
upon how nearly we think we get what we think we want. I have had my
chance and haven't thrown it away, and I suppose I ought to be happy.
But then, I have lost my wife, whom I loved very dearly, and who loved
me just as much, and I'm troubled about my child."

"Why?" they demanded. "Is there anything the matter with him?"

"No, not exactly. He's well enough, as babies go, and has a good
enough nurse, as nurses go. But the nurse is ignorant, and not always
careful. A child needs some woman of its own blood to love it and look
after it intelligently."

Mis' Molly's eyes were filled with tearful yearning. She would have
given all the world to warm her son's child upon her bosom; but she
knew this could not be.

"Did your wife leave any kin?" she asked with an effort.

"No near kin; she was an only child."

"You'll be gettin' married again," suggested his mother.

"No," he replied; "I think not."

Warwick was still reading his sister's face, and saw the spark of hope
that gleamed in her expressive eye.

"If I had some relation of my own that I could take into the house with
me," he said reflectively, "the child might be healthier and happier,
and I should be much more at ease about him."

The mother looked from son to daughter with a dawning apprehension and
a sudden pallor. When she saw the yearning in Rena's eyes, she threw
herself at her son's feet.

"Oh, John," she cried despairingly, "don't take her away from me!
Don't take her, John, darlin', for it'd break my heart to lose her!"

Rena's arms were round her mother's neck, and Rena's voice was sounding
in her ears. "There, there, mamma! Never mind! I won't leave you,
mamma--dear old mamma! Your Rena'll stay with you always, and never,
never leave you."

John smoothed his mother's hair with a comforting touch, patted her
withered cheek soothingly, lifted her tenderly to her place by his
side, and put his arm about her.

"You love your children, mother?"

"They're all I've got," she sobbed, "an' they cos' me all I had. When
the las' one's go