'Don't let them have me again.'
'No, no, never, never,' cried Cherry, 'you are mine! my own all that is dearest, my boy, his boy.'
'Oh! please don't cry, Chérie, please,' and he stroked her face, while Stella was only too glad to see the tears. 'My back is better now, and I don't care, if you won't go away like my Daddy.'
'Not now, my child, don't be afraid.'
Then in an undertone 'Is he?' and at her look and gesture, he again clung to her, burying his face on her neck, 'O Chérie, Chérie, why do people die? I wish it had been Kester.'
'O hush, Gerry,' and just then manly steps came along the gallery, causing the child almost to choke her in his grasp, as trembling all over, he implored her not to let him be taken away.
'Is Gerald here?' asked Clement, opening the door, 'ah! yes, John, here he is!'
'No, no one is going to take you! Oh! Clem! John, is this a fit! my darling! Speak to him.'
'My dear,' said John, 'no one wants to take you away, I am only thankful you are here! Don't be afraid.'
The grasp, which had for a moment had something convulsive in it, slackened, but the poor child panted out 'Hold me! hold me, don't let me go.'