But within doors, at Wolfscliff, all was pleasant, comfortable and happy.
Only Mrs. Pole complained of having too little to do. But her special grievance did not last very long, for——
On the morning of the fourteenth of February Palma Stuart received from Above, in trust for earth and heaven, a most precious valentine, in the form of a pair of twins, a fine boy and girl. And no more grateful and delighted mother dwelling on the “footstool” that day raised her heart in prayer and thanksgiving to the Throne.
No prouder father lived than Stuart, no happier uncle than John Cleve, nor more important nurse than Mary Pole. She had enough to do now, both day and night, to nurse mother and babes.
On the very first visit Stuart was allowed to make at the bedside of his wife, when he had kissed her with deep feeling, and had admired the twins to his heart’s content, she said to him:
“Cleve, dear, of course our boy must be named John Cleve, after dear uncle and yourself. But our little girl? Will you please ask uncle if he will let us call her Clarice, after his own dear angel love?”
“Well thought of, darling. I know he will be pleased. I will ask him as soon as I go downstairs,” warmly responded Cleve Stuart.
“And you must go now, sir, if you please. She must be quiet and go to sleep if she can,” said Mrs. Pole from the eminence of her new authority.
Stuart meekly bowed his head and obeyed.
The result of Palma’s proposal was this: Early in the afternoon, when she had had a good sleep, had awakened and taken refreshment, and was resting in peace and bliss, the old gentleman came quietly into the room, sat down beside her, and said softly: