d the gas in
order to have a better look at him. According to an unvarying
custom, there was one wee fist cuddled under his cheek--a
wretched insurgent of a fist that had ever disdained all orders
to abide under the coverlet. Often in the night Mother had bowed
over the tiny sleeper to press her lips upon the plump, smooth
wrist before lifting the pretty arm to tuck it softly away into
the quilted warmth of the bed. And during such a time it was her
wont to listen, in the fear that is never far away from the heart
of motherhood, to know if his breathing was quite regular and
sweet. It sometimes happened, when she felt the tickling thrill
of his ringlets against her cheek, that she would want to wake
him up instantly to ask if he was not a dear.

But now had come a time when she felt no impulse to rouse him. The
touch of curls upon her cheek she would not feel any more. They
were gone, and that baby of hers was gone. When he presently
awoke, his greeting was characteristic of his altered condition.
He did not call to her, he did not crow with laughter of good
feeling and fine health. He merely sat up and solemnly whispered:--

"Trouvers!"

Mother assured him that they were not a dream. He could get up
now and put them on, for presently he and she would be setting
out to see their old friend, Dr. Redfield.

Little David did not instantly hop out of bed, as she had
supposed he would. Little David sat very still. He looked at
Mother and at the floor. Then he suddenly lay down again and
turned his face to the wall.

"You want to put them on, don't you?"

Mother seemed greatly puzzled. She waited, but David did not
move. He said nothing. It was as though he had grown suddenly
deaf.

"You had a fine time yesterday, didn't you?" she asked, but David
did not reply. He flattened himself against the wall. And Mother
added: "It was great fun, wasn't it?--to go to the barber shop
with Doctor and afterward to get trouvers?"

There was no sign of life in the little boy, until presently his
foot began to wiggle. By degrees he turned over and slowly sat
up.

Mother did not seem to see him; she was seated at a low table
strewn with toilet articles that sparkled under the rays of the
gas-jet. She was dressing her hair, and her arm swung in long,
even strokes; from time to time she paused to wind something from
the teeth of the white comb about her fingers, which she
afterwards tucked deftly into a small wicker box beneath t