You must not get
discouraged, for your writing is fine. Remember that prize you took.
They will all be proud of you some day. You have been so good to me.
Your loving wife, Lou._"
Her voice broke, and with no further word she held the child out to
the young man. Without a word he took it and stared eagerly into its
face, pushing the wrappings aside.
"He has her eyes," he murmured, "Lou's eyes!"
The baby felt the grip of a stronger arm, wrinkled its features and
appeared to scan the dark, trembling face above it.
"He knows me! Mrs. Ufford, he knows me!" cried the man.
"Maybe so, maybe so," she said, soothingly. "You'll keep him, won't
you, now?"
"Keep him? Keep him?" he repeated, "why he's all I've got of
hers--all! He's Lou's and mine, together! He's--"
"Hush, hush!" she warned him, "here's a crowd already! We're right
out in the street, Mr. Williston! Come back with me. Yes, keep him
if you want to."
She turned to Caroline, neglected and wide-eyed, in the brougham.
"You see how it is, dear," she said hastily, "he wants it, after
all. I can't help bein' glad. It ain't always that money does the
most, you know. And he's the baby's father. Don't you mind, will
you?"
Caroline gulped.
"I--I guess not," she answered bravely.
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