'Boy and girl, sir,' she said, 'poor little dears!'
'Jealous for your old twins, Sibby?' he said, smiling.
'Ah! sir, they came in a better time.'
'Better for them, no doubt; but this is the best for these,' he answered brightly. 'See, Sibby, can't you be thankful, like me, that your mistress is sheltered from what would try her? I can bear it all better without her to see.'
Sibby's only reply was a gush of tears, and presently all was made ready; Geraldine was quietly helped into the room by Edgar, and placed in her usual station by the pillow, and the boys stood against the wall, while the two babes, tiny and scarcely animate things, were carried, each by one of the elder pair; and the father, as whitely robed as if he had been in his surplice, held out his hands, and smiled with his kindly lips and clear shining blue eyes full of welcome.
'Has your mother any wishes about names?' he asked. 'Wilmet—what—?'
'No, Papa, I think not;' but her eyes were brimming over with tears, and it was plain that something was suppressed.
'My dear, let me hear; I am not to be hurt by such things.'
'It is—it is only—she did say, when we came for them, that we were the children of joy—these are the children of sorrow,' murmured Wilmet, uttering the words with difficulty.
'I thought so,' he said; then after a brief pause, 'Now, Audley—'