family, quite as anxious as herself to see it, suggested her sending for it.  It would surely take no harm with them, and Marian would come with it.  To this plan Katy listened more willingly from the fact that Wilford had gone West, and the greater the distance between them the more she dared to do.  And so Marian Hazelton was one day startled at the sudden appearance at the cottage of Katy, who had come to take her and baby to Silverton.

There was no resisting the vehemence of Katy’s arguments, and before the next day’s sunsetting, the farmhouse, usually so quiet and orderly, had been turned into one general nursery, where Baby Cameron reigned supreme, screaming with delight at the tinware which Aunt Betsy brought out from the cake cutter to the dipper, the little creature beating a noisy tattoo upon the latter with an iron spoon, and then for diversion burying its fat dimpled hands in Uncle Ephraim’s long white hair, for the old man went down upon all fours to do his great-grand niece homage.

That night Morris came up, stopping suddenly as a loud baby laugh reached him, even across the orchard, and leaning for a moment against the wall, while he tried to prepare himself for the shock it would be to see Katy’s child, and hold it in his arms, as he knew he must, or the mother be aggrieved.

He had supposed it was pretty, but he was not prepared for the beautiful little cherub which in its short white dress, with its soft curls of golden brown clustering about its head, stood holding to a chair, pushing it occasionally, and venturing now and then to take a step, while its infantile laugh mingled with the screams of its delighted auditors, watching it with so much interest.

There was one great, bitter, burning pang, a blur before his eyes, and then, folding his arms composedly upon the window sill, Dr. Grant stood looking in upon the occupants of the room, whistling at last to baby, as he was accustomed to whistle to the children of his patients.

“Oh, Morris,” Katy cried, “baby can almost walk, Marian has taken so much pains, and she can say ‘papa.’  Isn’t she a beauty?”

Baby had turned her head by this time, her ear caught by the whistle and her eye arrested by something in Morris which fascinated her gaze.  Perhaps she thought of Wilford, of whom she had been very fond, for she pushed her chair toward him and then held up her fat, creasy arms for him to take her.  Morris was fond of children and took the infant at once, strained it to his bosom with a passionate caress, which seemed to have in it something of the love he bore the mother, who went off into ecstasies of joy when baby, attacking Morris’ hair and patting softly his cheek, tried to kiss him as it had been taught by Marian.  Never was mother prouder, happier than Katy during the first few days succeeding baby’s arrival, while the family seemed to tread on air, so swiftly the time went by with that active little life in their midst, stirring them up so constantly, putting to rout all their rules of order and keeping their house in a state of delightful confusion.