now Thornton thought that the worst was over.

"I will bring your little girl," Doris said, and went quietly from the
room.

Something of the sweetness and strength of the place seemed to go with
her. Again Thornton became restless, and it came back to him that his
first aversion to Doris Fletcher was connected with this power of hers
to overturn, without effort, his peace of mind and self-esteem. But he
had outwitted her in marrying her sister--she had antagonized him but he
had won then and would win again now! The fountain irritated and annoyed
him. He got up and walked about the room.

"A devilish freakish conception," he muttered, gazing at the fountain
and kicking at a rare rug on the floor, "a kind of madness runs through
the breed, I wager. Too much blood of one sort gets clogged in the human
system." And then he listened.

There were childish voices nearing: sweet, piping voices with little
gurgles of laughter rippling through. The laugh of happy, healthy
childhood.

"She's bringing them both!" thought Thornton, and an ugly scowl came to
his brow. He did not know much about children, knew nothing really,
except that they were noisy and usually messy--some were better looking
than others; gave promise, and he hoped his child would be handsome; it
might help her along, and she would need all the help she could muster.
Then he heard Doris instructing the children:

"See, Joan, dear, hold Nan by the hand like a big, strong sister, this
is going to be another play. Now listen sharp! When we come to the steps
you must stand close together and give that pretty courtesy that Mary
taught you yesterday. Now, darlings--don't forget!"

There are moments and incidents in life that seem out of all proportion
to their apparent significance. Thornton waited for what was about to
happen as he might have the verdict were he on trial for his life. He
was frightened at he knew not what. Would his child look like Meredith?
Would she have those eyes that could find his soul and burn it even
while they smiled? Would she look like him; find in him some thing that
would help him to forget? He looked up. Doris had planned dramatically.
She left the babies alone on the top step and came down to Thornton.

"Aren't they wonderful?" she asked in so calm and ordinary a tone that
it was startling.

They were wonderful--even a hard, indifferent man could see that. Slim,
vigorous little creatures they were with sturdy brown legs show