"Will it upset you, my child?"
"I think not—I will try not; but, mother, I had so looked forward to it, and I should like to hold him once more."
Mrs. Seymour made no further objection, but went into the other room, whither the little cradle had been carried, and lifted the tiny baby out carefully. She brought it to Meg's side, placed it in her arms, and then went back to clear away Jem's tea, leaving the young mother alone with her grief.
Dickie slept quietly, and Meg could cry over her babe unseen. She could lay her cheek against its little head, she could wrap her arms round it, she could press her lips upon its lifeless ones. But after all it was lifeless, and Meg shed some bitter tears over the thought that it could never know her love; but by-and-by these were wiped away. The remembrance stole over her that her little child was only parted from her for a short time, and was meanwhile in such safe keeping as she could never hope, at the best, to give it here. "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away," she murmured half aloud. "He has got him safe waiting for me."
Whether her soft words woke Dickie, or whether her slight movements had done so, she did not know; but at this moment he turned over and flung his arms about her neck.
"Are you awake, dear?" she asked, hoping he would not notice the little form lying at the other side of her.
"Yes, mo'ver-Meg. Are you cryin'?"
"I was crying, Dickie, but I'm better now."
"What for?" asked the child.
"Because I had a little baby-boy, and the Lord Jesus has taken him to His Home."