"Soon, I hope, darling."
"Is Humphie going to sleep all night in the drawing-room?"
"Yes—isn't that funny?"
"May I go and say good-night to him?"
"No; you can't go to him to-night."
Miles's eyes filled with tears. "I can't go to sleep without saying good-night to Humphie."
"Ah! don't cry, my child," said the poor father, beseechingly. His feelings had been on the strain so many hours; he felt he could not stand any more, and he dared not let his thoughts dwell on the subject. He tried to turn the conversation. "Tell me," he said, with a forced smile, "what was that little song you were singing to yourself when I came in?"
"It was about Humpty-Dumpty," said Miles, mournfully.
"Let me see: Humpty-Dumpty, was an egg, wasn't he?"