some letters and dress."

But Gerard said: "There seems to be a draught through this hallway; I'll
just step upstairs to be sure that the nursery windows are not too wide
open. See you later, Phil. If there's anything you need just dingle that
bell."

And he went away upstairs, only to return in a few minutes, laughing
under his breath: "I say, Phil, don't you want to see the kids asleep?
Billy's flat on his back with a white 'Teddy bear' in either arm; and
Drina and Josephine are rolled up like two kittens in pajamas; and you
should see Winthrop's legs--"

"Certainly," said Selwyn gravely, "I'll be with you in a second."

And turning to his dresser he laid away the letters and the small
photograph which he had been examining under the drop-light, locking
them securely in the worn despatch box until he should have time to
decide whether to burn them all or only the picture. Then he slipped on
his smoking jacket.

"--Ah, about Winthrop's legs--" he repeated vaguely, "certainly; I
should be very glad to examine them, Austin."

"I don't want you to examine them," retorted Gerard resentfully, "I want
you to see them. There's nothing the matter with them, you understand."

"Exactly," nodded Selwyn, following his big brother-in-law into the
hall, where, from beside a lamp-lit sewing table a trim maid rose
smiling:

"Miss Erroll desires to know whether Captain Selwyn would care to see
her gown when she is ready to go down?"

"By all means," said Selwyn, "I should like to see that, too. Will you
let me know when Miss Erroll is ready? Thank you."

Austin said as they reached the nursery door: "Funny thing, feminine
vanity--almost pathetic, isn't it? . . . Don't make too much
noise! . . . What do you think of that pair of legs, Phil?--and he's not
yet five. . . . And I want you to speak frankly; _did_ you ever see
anything to beat that bunch of infants? Not because they're ours and we
happen to be your own people--" he checked himself and the smile faded
as he laid his big ruddy hand on Selwyn's shoulder;--"_your own people_,
Phil. Do you understand? . . . And if I have not ventured to say
anything about--what has happened--you understand that, too, don't you?
You know I'm just as loyal to you as Nina is--as it is natural and
fitting that your own people should be. Only a man finds it difficult to
convey his--his--"

"Don't say 'sympathies'!" cut in Selwyn nervously.

"I wasn't going to, confound you! I was going t