Miss Stellenthorpe rose, erect and very tall, placed a hand upon either of Lily's shoulders, and kissed her brow with solemnity.
She made no further reference to Lily's confidence until the moment of her departure.
"Child," she then said, turning upon the threshold in farewell. "Child! Let me know, in the midst of the sad task to which I go—a tangled skein to be unravelled, my Lily—let me hear that you have given a man-child to the world."
There were others also who, possibly for less altruistic motives than Miss Stellenthorpe's, hoped that Lily's child would be a son.
Ethel Hardinge delivered herself of many prudent and matronly exhortations.
"And I do hope you'll have a boy, dear. I was dreadfully disappointed when all my three were girls, and so was poor dear Charlie, though he was much too kind to say so. And then Dorothy's first two, dear little darling things, though I wouldn't change them for the world—still, you know how delighted she was when little Charles appeared. There is something about having a son, you know, Lily."
Lily, thoroughly understanding this cryptic statement, agreed to it, but she said also:
"Nicholas doesn't mind which it is, if only we really have a child, and I don't think I could be disappointed, so long as it lived."
"Ah, poor little thing. But you'll see, Lily dear, everything is going to be all right this time. Only you must take great care of yourself. You've no mother, and you won't mind a little advice from me, will you? Tell me, dear, do you...."
Cousin Ethel was very kind, and intensely interested, full of counsels that related to the physiological aspect of the situation.