ained her in sitting up, and Amy and all of
us know that anxiety hurts her more than fatigue. She would only lie
awake worrying herself, instead of sitting peaceably by the fire,
holding the baby, or watching Amy, and having a quiet cry when she is
asleep. For, after all, it is very sad!' Charles was trying to brave
his feelings, but did not succeed very well. 'Yesterday morning I was
properly frightened. I came into the dressing-room, and found mamma
crying so, that I fully believed it was all wrong, but she was just
coming to tell us, and was only overcome by thinking of not having him
to call first, and how happy he would have been.'

'And the dear Amy herself!'

'I can't tell. She is a wonderful person for keeping herself composed
when she ought. I see she has his picture in full view, but she says not
a word, except that mamma saw her to-day, when she thought no one was
looking, fondling the little thing, and whispering to it--"Guy's baby!"
and "Guy's little messenger!"' Charles gave up the struggle, and
fairly cried, but in a moment rallying his usual tone, he went on, half
laughing,--'To be sure, what a morsel of a creature it is! It is awful
to see anything so small calling itself a specimen of humanity!'

'It is your first acquaintance with infant humanity, I suppose? Pray,
did you ever see a baby?'

'Not to look at. In fact, Mary, I consider it a proof of your being a
rational woman that you have not asked me whether it is pretty.'

'I thought you no judge of the article.'

'No, it was not to inspect it that Amy sent for me; though after all it
was for a business I would almost as soon undertake, a thing I would not
do for any other living creature.'

'Then I know what it is. To write some kind message to Captain Morville.
Just like the dear Amy!'

'Just like her, and like no one else, except--Of course my father wrote
him an official communication yesterday, very short; but the fact must
have made it sweet enough, savage as we all were towards him, as there
was no one else to be savage to, unless it might be poor Miss Morville,
who is the chief loser by being of the feminine gender,' said Charles,
again braving what he was pleased to call sentimentality. 'Well, by and
by, my lady wants to know if any one has written to "poor Philip," as
she will call him, and, by no means contented by hearing papa had,
she sends to ask me to come to her when I came in from wheeling in the
garden; and receives me with