Such was the sudden torture and fear in his breast, he could scarcely lift his voice. He put one hand to his head and stepped nearer his wife.
As if to find tranquillity in a moment of nervousness, she rested her soft glance on Alicia, the child of delicate hands and delicate thoughts.
Robbie, the importunate youngest, leaned against his mother with heavy and troubled eyes.
'I thought I heard something, mother,' he said.
She bent over him, visibly trembling.
'What did you think it was, darling?' she asked.
'I thought it was the rain hitting the window and trying to get in.'
She laughed and rose uneasily from her chair, and taking the child in her arms, she walked up and down before the friendly fire. For a long time there was no sound in the room except the vague sound of wind, of flame, and of Maggie's footsteps.
Suddenly Robbie gave a little cry from her shoulder.
'Why doesn't father come?'