Perhaps you would like to sit down and take him for a bit?"

Yes, Esmeralda was only too willing, for it was only by act of grace and when Mistress Nurse felt inclined for a gossip in the servants' hall that she was allowed to nurse her own baby. She took the dear little soft bundle in her arms and rocked gently to and fro, studying the little face and dreaming mother dreams of the days to come.

If G.o.d spared him, the tiny form would grow strong, the vacant face would become bright and alert with life, the mite of a hand would be bigger than her own--a man's hand with a man's work as its inheritance.

There was something awful in the thought, and in her own responsibility towards his future. Esmeralda never felt so serious, so prayerful, so little satisfied with herself, as when she sat alone with her baby in her arms. She knew nothing about children--very little, poor girl, of the wise training of father and mother, but the very consciousness of her own defects added earnestness to the resolve to bring up this child to be wise, and strong, and n.o.ble--a power for good in the world.

That was her resolve, renewed afresh from day to day, and after the resolve followed the relentless conviction that the change must be wrought in herself before she would have power to teach another. It would need a n.o.ble mother to train a n.o.ble son, a mother who was mistress over her own tongue to teach the lessons of self-control; a mother who had fought her own giants of vanity and self-seeking before she could hand on the sword. Esmeralda trembled and shrank weakly from the conflict, but the baby turned its wondering eyes upon her and straightway she was strong again.

"My son!" she murmured tenderly. "My little son! We shall love one another. Oh, how we shall love one another--you and I!"

The beautiful dark head bent low over the shapeless little bundle, and the croon of a cradle song accompanied the regular rocking of the chair.

It was the most peaceful and charming of pictures, and the husband and father stood noiselessly on the threshold, almost unwilling to speak and destroy the effect.

All the afternoon he had been regretting his hasty words, and reproaching himself for want of forbearance towards his impetuous girl- wife. It was unreasonable to expect the habit of a lifetime to be outlived in a few short months, and at this season there were especial reasons for judging her tenderly. Poor darling! She had suffered a bitter disappointment!

Bridgie and the boys had found it impossible to spend Christmas at Knock, and although Joan had not confessed as much in words, the slackness of her preparations showed that she had lost all zest in the season. She had had a dull time of it since the birth of the boy, and it was only natural that she should long for her own people, especially those two dear sisters whose names were so constantly on her lips. If it were only possible to indulge her--to hit upon some plan by which Christmas could be made all she could desire!

Geoffrey knitted his brows in thought, then suddenly came the inspiration, and with it an exclamation of satisfaction which brought Esmeralda's eyes upon him. She smiled softly, and held up her face to receive his kiss--such a different face from the one which he had seen two hours before, with its curling lips and flushed, contemptuous smile!

In its sweetness and subdued tenderness it was a type of the youthful Madonna, and Geoffrey's own expression softened in sympathy.

"Well, my dearie! Nursing your boy?"

Esmeralda turned back the shawl once more and held up the child for his father's inspection.

"There! Isn't he splendid? Nurse is quite excited about him this afternoon. She says it is wonderful how he gets on. He has been so 'pert,' as she calls it, that she hardly knew how to manage him."

"H'm!" The young father regarded the little face with amused, speculative eyes. "'Pert' does not commend itself to me as precisely the best word which could be found. Solemn little beggar, I call him!

He seems quite oppressed by the wickedness of the world. I say, that's rather a peculiar mouth, isn't it? Something funny about the upper lip!"

"It's exactly like yours--the image of it!" said Esmeralda firmly. "You can't judge because naturally you can't see yourself. But it really is.

Look at that old picture when you were two years old."

Geoffrey stroked his moustache to one side, and regarded himself critically in the mirror.

"Oh, well, there's hope for him yet!" he p.r.o.nounced complacently. "I suppose babies are all ugly in the beginning, but considering his parentage he ought to come out all right by and by. How long do you suppose it will be before he gets his hair, and begins to be intelligible?"

"He has hair now, and he is beginning to speak. He said 'Coo-oo!' this afternoon quite distinctly. It's horrid of you, Geoff, to call him ugly! Everyone says he is a beautiful boy and the image of you!"

"Much more chance of being beautiful if he were like you, darling!

Spoke, did he? Well, I take your word for it, but it's rather a stretch of imagination. He is a jolly little chap, anyway, and I'm very proud of him. Here is nurse coming to take possession. Hand him over and come along with me. I have something to tell you."

"Something nice, I hope! I want a distraction," said Esmeralda wistfully. She slid her hand through her husband's arm as they walked down the corridor and peered up in his face. "Somebody was rather vicious this afternoon! I'm sorry you put me in a temper. It's stupid to quarrel when we are so fond of one another. You'll never do it again, will you?"

"Never, never! It was all my fault, and I apologise abjectly to your temper for taking liberties with it. I ought to know by this time that it's in delicate health. Never mind, I've planned a delightful programme for you! What would you like best for a Christmas present if you had the choice?"

He was all radiant with smiles, but Esmeralda sighed, and a far-away expression came into her beautiful grey eyes.

"I'd like--Oh, what's the use of speaking of it, Geoff? They can't come, and that's all about it! I haven't thought of any present. I don't seem to care about anything else."

"Whisper!" cried Geoffrey triumphantly. "Whisper!" He bent his head, and Esmeralda put her ear to his lips, her face alight with expectation.

"Oh!" she cried rapturously, and again, "Oh!" and "_Oh_" in ever- ascending tones of delight. "Do you mean it, Geoff--really--really?

It's like a fairy-tale--so perfectly lovely and charming! I shan't sleep a wink--I know I shan't! Geoffrey, you darling, I do love you for thinking of it!" and in an ecstasy of delight she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him rapturously.

"Any letters for the post, madam?" asked an even voice from the end of the corridor, and the husband wrenched himself free, while the wife stared after the departing figure with gloomy eyes.

"He saw me kiss you! The only marvel is he didn't offer to do it for me. The strain of behaving properly before that man will be the death of me, Geoffrey Hilliard!"

CHAPTER EIGHT.

A SURPRISE VISIT.

The next two days Jack came home early from the city, where a remarkable cessation of work had happened simultaneously with the arrival of Miss Sylvia Trevor at Number Three, Rutland Road. Bridgie trotted about the house preparing for the festival on Thursday, and Sylvia lay idly upon the couch, with nothing better to do than to listen, sympathise, and admire.

It was easy to listen, for in truth Jack gave her no opportunity to do anything else; it was impossible to resist admiring, for he made a handsome figure, with his broad, muscular shoulders, graceful carriage, and clean-shaven face; it had seemed at first sight as if sympathy were not required, but Master Jack invented a fresh crop of imaginary woes every time that he met a pretty girl, for the express purpose of receiving consolation. Sylvia beheld in him an exile from home and country, toiling at an uncongenial task, for the maintenance of his orphaned brothers and sisters, and was vaguely given to understand that since meeting her, his poverty had become an even more painful barrier to his hopes. He confided in her details of business, which she understood as well as a buried language, and asked her advice on knotty points in such a flattering manner that she forgot to notice that he never paused for a reply, and when at last he reluctantly rose to leave the room he sighed profoundly, and in a voice touched with emotion declared that she had helped him as he had never before been helped!

"I cannot thank you enough for your sympathy and counsel, but I shall never forget what you have said to me to-day. It will help me through many a dark hour!" he declared, and Sylvia blushed and gasped, and lay back on her cushions, all tremulous with excitement. It was her first experience of the art of flirtation, and she was pleased and flattered as it was natural for a girl to be, but she was a sensible little woman, despite her hasty speeches, and her vanity was not big enough to cloud either her judgment or a remarkably accurate memory. She carefully recalled to mind the late conversation, and found that her own share therein had been limited to monosyllabic a.s.sents and denials; an occasional, "Really!" and three or four exclamations of, "How sad!"

These, then, were the vaunted sympathy and counsel, these the eloquent words which Mr Jack had vowed to treasure in deathless remembrance, and which were to strengthen him in hours of trial! Sylvia blushed once more, from mortification this time, and registered a vow to adopt a new tone with this disciple of the Blarney stone, and put an end forthwith to sentimental confidences. She was still looking hot and flurried when Bridgie came into the room to prepare for tea, and to rest after the day's labours.

"You look tired, dear!" she said anxiously. "I hope Jack has not been talking too much. He just dotes upon romancing when he can get a listener, and I didn't like to interrupt when I knew he had come home especially to see you. Jack falls in love with every fresh girl he meets, and they mostly fall in love with him too. He has such lovely humbugging eyes!"

"Do they, indeed! He shan't humbug _me_, that's one thing certain!" was Sylvia's mental comment. Aloud she a.s.sented cordially. "Most handsome eyes! I call him unusually good-looking for a man, and he has amused me very much, but I am more than ready for tea, and a little of your society. There's the clatter of the cups. Welcome sound, it's music in my ears! How I used to long for it when I was ill!"

"I'll draw the curtains and make the room look cosy. That is one good thing about a tiny house--you can keep it warm. We were frozen in the great draughty barns of rooms at Knock, and Pixie used to look so quaint with her feet in snow-boots, and her hands in a m.u.f.f, and her little nose as red as a cherry. It was so cold that it kept her awake at nights, until the Major bought an elegant little egg-cosy at a bazaar in Dublin, and she slept in it regularly through the frost. We used to go to kiss her last thing every night, every man Jack of us, for the pleasure of seeing her lying there, so peaceful, with the cosy perched over her nose! m.u.f.fins, dear? I didn't make them, so you may eat them with an easy mind."

Jack came downstairs at the summons of the tea-bell, looking in languishing fashion at his comforter as he entered the room, when, to his surprise, back came an answering glance, as it were parodying his own, the sentimental att.i.tude belied by twinkling eyes and mischievous lips. The blush and tremor of an hour ago were conspicuous by their absence, and the change was by no means appreciated by the startled onlooker. In vain he tried to return to the old footing, accompanying the simplest remark with a hint of secret understanding, and waiting upon her with a deference which seemed humbly to inquire the reason of the change.

Sylvia bluntly inquired, "What is it?" in reply to his appealing looks, kept him trotting to and from the tea-table, and said, "How clumsy you are!" when his fingers touched her own over the cake-basket. Even Jack O'Shaughnessy found it impossible to continue flirting under these conditions, and devoted himself to the consumption of m.u.f.fins with a crestfallen air, while Bridgie regarded him with fond commiseration from behind the tea-tray.

It was at this opportune moment that the clatter of wheels stopped at the door and the peal of the bell rang through the house. Sarah went to the door, and there was a movement and bustle in the hall, at the sound of which Bridgie nodded complacently.

"The Parcels Delivery van! I thought something must be coming. Have you any change, Jack? I've nothing smaller than sixpence, and the man will want a Christmas-box--a few coppers, perhaps."

"Oh, give the poor beggar half a crown. Don't insult him with coppers,"

said Jack in his lordly way, pulling a handful of silver from his pocket and selecting the largest coin of the number. "I'll take it to him myself. You might give him some tea if there is any left. It is perishingly cold outside!"

He stepped towards the door, but before he reached it, it was opened from without, a tall figure precipitated itself into the room, and with two separate cries of rapture the sisters flew to meet each other, and stood with locked arms, kissing, laughing, and questioning, with incredulous delight.

"Esmeralda darling! Is it really you? You are not a dream, dear, are you? I can't believe it's true!"

"It was Geoff's doing! He saw I was fretting for you, and suggested that we should come to town and stay over the New Year at an hotel.

There was not time to get the house ready. A whole week, Bridgie!

Won't we talk! There are such oceans of things to tell you. Baby is beginning to speak!"

"The precious mite!" Bridgie disentangled one hand and held it towards her brother-in-law in beaming welcome. "I always did say you were a broth of a boy, Geoffrey, but you have eclipsed yourself this time. I am so happy I don't know how to bear it. Now Christmas will be something like Christmas, and--" she smiled encouragingly into Sylvia's embarra.s.sed face,--"we have a visitor staying with us to make things still more festive. My new friend, Miss Sylvia Trevor, who is recovering from a long illness."