"She's a little darling," said Jim. "Mother says she's the prettiest
tiny baby she ever saw. Poor Aunt Sanna and Mother had a great old cry
together!"
"Ah!" said Julia hungrily. For Miss Toland had come stepping carefully
in, the precious pink blanket in her arms.
"I'm to bring her to say 'Good-night' to her mother!" said Miss Toland.
"How are you, dear? All forgotten now?"
The pink miracle was laid beside Julia; she shifted her sore body just a
trifle to make room, and spread weak fingers to raise the blanket from
the baby's face. A little crumpled rose leaf of a face, a shock of soft
black hair, and two tiny hands that curved warmly against Julia's
investigating finger. All the rest was delicate lawn and soft wool.
The baby wrinkled her little countenance, her tiny mouth opened, and
Julia heard for the first time her daughter's rasping, despairing,
bitter little cry. A passion of ecstasy flooded her heart; she dropped
her soft pale cheek close to the little creased one.
"Oh, my darling, my _darling_!" she breathed. "Oh, you little perfect,
helpless, innocent thing! Oh, Jim, she's crying, the angel! Oh, I do
thank God for her!" she ended softly.
Pages:
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441