"So best, so best, perhaps. Heaven grant that she may know nothing until her eyes shall open in that bright and blessed land, where
'The wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest!'"
said Lyon Berners, bowing his head.
But he remained standing by the bedside, and gazing at the pale, still face of his wife, until at length Miss Tabby came up to him, with the babe in her arms, and whimpered forth:
"Oh, Mr. Lyon, won't you look at your little daughter just once? Won't you say something to her? Won't you give her your blessing? Nobody has said a word to her yet; nobody has welcomed her; nobody has blessed her! Oh! my good Lord in heaven! to be born in prison, and not to get one word of welcome from anybody, even from her own father!"
And here Miss Tabby, overcome by her feelings, sobbed aloud; for which weakness I for one don't blame her.
"Give me the child," said Mr. Berners, taking the babe from the yielding arms of the nurse. "Poor little unfortunate!" he continued, as he uncovered and gazed on her face. "May the Lord bless you, for I, wretch that I am, have no power to bless."
At this moment Mrs. Winterose came up, and addressing the doctor, said:
"Sir, I have done all I can do in this extremity. Tabby is fully equal to anything that may happen now. But as for me, sir, I must leave."
"Leave? What are you thinking of, woman?" demanded the doctor, almost angrily.