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 ing mist. A homespun longing to get back to Fawnie and the boy urged Derek cheerfully through the wet. He was surprised to see no light in the house. Fawnie disliked the twilight, and usually lighted the lamps when the first shadow fell.

When he reached the gate he heard the child crying, not the lusty cry of temper, nor the peevish cry of sleepiness, but an outraged, rhythmic wail that subsided now and then into an exhausted gurgle. Derek, with a sudden fear at his heart—Fawnie might be ill or hurt—hurried to the door. Inside it was dark, and the child on hearing the door open held his breath, so Derek did not at once discover where he lay.

He went to the kitchen, struck a match and took a lamp from the lamp shelf. With it lighted he returned to the dining room. The child lay on the settle near the fireplace, but the fire was low and the room cold.

The baby began to crow and kick with joy at seeing him, but Derek paid no attention to him, and with the lamp held high he went down the step into the front of the house. He stood irresolutely in the hallway a moment, and then called, "Fawnie!" loudly. There was no sound in answer except the labored ticking of the old clock whose blank white face stared at him from the end of the hall. He called again, now angrily, "Fawnie! Fawnie!"

No answer.

He went through the drawing-room, his bedroom. At the foot of the stairs he called again. . . . The child was giving short, despairing yells. He returned to the dining room, set the lamp on the table, and picked up the baby and kissed it. With a gesture of affection, that it had only lately acquired, it clasped its little arms about his neck and pressed close to him. Its wet face snuggled against his cheek.