d
found light neither in work for which he was unfitted nor in a woman who
had ceased to respect him, and whom he was ceasing to love. Though he
called himself fickle and took all the blame of their marriage on his
own shoulders, there remained in Agnes certain terrible faults of heart
and head, and no self-reproach would diminish them. The glamour of
wedlock had faded; indeed, he saw now that it had faded even before
wedlock, and that during the final months he had shut his eyes and
pretended it was still there. But now the mists were breaking.

That November the supreme event approached. He saw it with Nature's
eyes. It dawned on him, as on Ansell, that personal love and marriage
only cover one side of the shield, and that on the other is graven the
epic of birth. In the midst of lessons he would grow dreamy, as one who
spies a new symbol for the universe, a fresh circle within the square.
Within the square shall be a circle, within the circle another square,
until the visual eye is baffled. Here is meaning of a kind. His mother
had forgotten herself in him. He would forget himself in his son.

He was at his duties when the news arrived--taking preparation. Boys are
marvellous creatures. Perhaps they will sink below the brutes; perhaps
they will attain to a woman's tenderness. Though they despised Rickie,
and had suffered under Agnes's meanness, their one thought this term was
to be gentle and to give no trouble.

"Rickie--one moment--"

His face grew ashen. He followed Herbert into the passage, closing
the door of the preparation room behind him. "Oh, is she safe?" he
whispered.

"Yes, yes," said Herbert; but there sounded in his answer a sombre
hostile note.

"Our boy?"

"Girl--a girl, dear Rickie; a little daughter. She--she is in many ways
a healthy child. She will live--oh yes." A flash of horror passed over
his face. He hurried into the preparation room, lifted the lid of his
desk, glanced mechanically at the boys, and came out again.

Mrs. Lewin appeared through the door that led into their own part of the
house.

"Both going on well!" she cried; but her voice also was grave,
exasperated.

"What is it?" he gasped. "It's something you daren't tell me."

"Only this"--stuttered Herbert. "You mustn't mind when you see--she's
lame."

Mrs. Lewin disappeared. "Lame! but not as lame as I am?"

"Oh, my dear boy, worse. Don't--oh, be a man in this. Come away from the
preparation room. Remember she'll li