o more.

Ursula seemed pained a moment, but soon forgot it in the general
admiration of her treasure.

"She might well come in a snow-storm," said Mrs. Jessop, taking the
child. "She is just like snow, so soft and white."

"And as soundless--she hardly ever cries. She just lies in this way
half the day over, cooing quietly, with her eyes shut. There, she has
caught your dress fast. Now, was there ever a two months' old baby so
quick at noticing things? and she does it all with her fingers--she
touches everything;--ah! take care, doctor," the mother added,
reproachfully, at a loud slam of the door, which made the baby tremble
all over.

"I never knew a child so susceptible of sounds," said John, as he began
talking to it and soothing it;--how strange it was to see him! and yet
it seemed quite natural already. "I think even now she knows the
difference between her mother's voice and mine; and any sudden noise
always startles her in this way."

"She must have astonishingly quick hearing," said the doctor, slightly
annoyed. Ursula wisely began to talk of something else--showed
Muriel's eyelashes, very long for such a baby--and descanted on the
colour of her eyes, that fruitful and never-ending theme of mothers and
friends.

"I think they are like her father's; yes, certainly like her father's.
But we have not many opportunities of judging, for she is such a lazy
young damsel, she hardly ever opens them--we should often fancy her
asleep, but for that little soft coo; and then she will wake up all of
a sudden. There now! do you see her? Come to the window, my beauty!
and show Dr. Jessop your bonny brown eyes."

They were bonny eyes! lovely in shape and colour, delicately fringed;
but there was something strange in their expression--or rather, in
their want of it. Many babies have a round, vacant stare--but this was
no stare, only a wide, full look--a look of quiet blankness--an
UNSEEING look.

It caught Dr. Jessop's notice. I saw his air of vexed dignity change
into a certain anxiety.

"Well, whose are they like--her father's or mine? His, I hope--it will
be the better for her beauty. Nay, we'll excuse all compliments."

"I--I can't exactly tell. I could judge better by candlelight."

"We'll have candles."

"No--no! Had we not better put it off altogether, till another
day?--I'll call in to-morrow and look at her eyes."

His manner was hesitating and troubled. John noticed it.

"Love, give he