course he did," she said shortly.

Zora flew to the bassinette and glowed womanlike over the baby. A beautiful
child, one to be proud of indeed. Why hadn't Emmy dear proclaimed his
uniqueness in the world of infants? From the references in her letters he
might have been the ordinary baby of every cradle.

"Oh, you ought to be such a happy woman!" she cried, taking off her furs
and throwing them over the back of a chair. "Such a happy woman!"

An involuntary sigh shook her. The first words had been intended to convey
a gentle reproof; nature had compelled the reiteration on her own account.

"I'm happy enough," said Emmy.

"I wish you could say that with more conviction, dear. 'Happy enough'
generally means 'pretty miserable.' Why should you be miserable?"

"I'm not. I have more happiness than I deserve. I don't deserve much."

Zora put her arm round her sister's waist.

"Never mind, dear. We'll try to make you happier."

Emmy submitted to the caress for a while and then freed herself gently. She
did not reply. Not all the trying of Zora and all the Ladies Bountiful of
Christendom could give her her heart's desire. Besides, Zora, with her
large air of smiling _dea ex machina_ was hopelessly out of tone with her
mood. She picked up the furs.

"How lovely. They're new. Where did you get them?"

The talk turned on ordinary topics. They had not met for a year, and they
spoke of trivial happenings. Emmy touched lightly on her life in Paris.
They exchanged information as to their respective journeys. Emmy had had a
good crossing the day before, but Madame Bolivard, who had faced the
hitherto unknown perils of the deep with unflinching courage, had been
dreadfully seasick. The boy had slept most of the time. Awake he had been
as good as gold.

"He's the sweetest tempered child under the sun."

"Like his father," said Zora, "who is both sweet tempered and a child."

The words were a dagger in Emmy's heart. She turned away swiftly lest Zora
should see the pain in her eyes. The intensity of the agony had been
unforeseen.

"I hope the little mite has a spice of the devil from our side of the
family," added Zora, "or it will go hard with him. That's what's wrong with
poor Septimus."

Emmy turned with a flash. "There's nothing wrong with Septimus. I wouldn't
change him for any man in the world."

Zora raised surprised eyebrows and made the obvious retort:

"Then, my dear, why on earth don't you live with him?"