And as he looked at the sleeping child, the boy
opened his eyes. Then a beautiful smile illumined his face, a delightful
cry of wonder and joy parted his lips, and he held out his arms to John.
Without a moment's hesitation, John lifted him.
"Dear little Stephen!" he said. "I wish you were a man!"
"Then I would always stay with you, Uncle."
"Yes, yes! Now you must go to sleep and tomorrow I will take you to the
Hippodrome."
"And Ralph, too?"
"To be sure, Ralph goes, too." Then he tenderly laid Stephen back in bed
and watched Lucy from the fireside. She talked softly to him, as she
went about the room, attending to those details of forethought of which
mothers have the secret. He watched her putting everything in place with
silent pleasure. He noted her deft, clever ways, the exquisite neatness
of her dress, her small feet so trigly shod, her lovely face bending
over the most trivial duty with a smile of sweet contentment; and he
could not help thinking hopefully of Harry. Indeed her atmosphere was so
afar from whatever was evil or sorrowful that John wondered how he was
to begin a conversation which must be a disturbance.
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