I have only
two; Joyce is three years old, and my boy is nearly eighteen months. Oh,
he is so lovely, and to think I can only see him for a few minutes at a
time, that I lose all his pretty ways; it is such a trouble to me. His
nurse is leaving to be married, and I am so anxious to find someone who
will watch over my darlings and make them happy."
She paused, as the sound of approaching footsteps were audible in the
corridor, and rose hastily as an impatient, "Violet, where are you, my
dear?" was distinctly audible.
"That is Mr. Morton; will you excuse me a moment?" And the next moment I
could hear her say, "I was in the blue drawing-room, Alick. I have sent
off the letters, and now I want to speak to you a moment," and her voice
died away as they moved farther down the corridor.
I felt a keen anxiety as to the result of that conversation. I was very
impulsive by nature, and I had fallen in love with Mrs. Morton. The worn
look on the beautiful young face had touched me somehow. One of my queer
visionary ideas came over me as I recalled her expression. I thought
that if I were an artist, and that my subject was the "Massacre of the
Innocents," that the mother's face in the foreground should be Mrs.
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