Jeannie laughed.
“What an awful memory you have!” she said. “Isn’t it a great responsibility? How did you think, to begin with, that it was the policeman’s night?”
“I came a fortnight ago, you remember,” he said, “and you were late for dinner because of the policeman.”
“Yes, that is quite true,” said Jeannie; “but poor Williams has a bad headache and a touch of fever, and so Rankin is on duty.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jack. “But baby and I are the gainers.”
Jeannie pointed to the little pink face.
“Fast asleep, do you see,” she said, “two minutes after a heavy meal. He always does that. Fancy falling fast asleep over dessert, and sleeping on till eight next morning over the dinner-table. I must put him to bed.”
Jack stood by the fire watching Jeannie tuck the baby into its cot with deft fingers. All her movements were sharp and decided; her fingers seemed to have an intelligence of their own.
“I must sit here till nurse comes up from her supper,” she said. “Look at that seraph!”
“I think he has his share of luck, after all,” said Jack.