He burst into an incontrollable wail that tortured Letty with its likeness to the crying of her baby.
"Tom! my own darling Tom!" she cried, "when you speak as if I belonged to you, it makes me as happy as a queen. When you are better, you will be happy, too, dear. Mary says you will."
"O Letty!" he sobbed—"the baby!"
"The baby's all right, Mary says; and, some day, she says, he will run into your arms, and know you for his father."
"And I shall be ashamed to look at him!" said Tom.
An hour or so after, he woke from a short sleep, and his eyes sought Letty's watching face.
"I have seen baby," he said, "and he has forgiven me. I dare say it was only a dream," he added, "but somehow it makes me happier. At least, I know how the thing might be."
"It was true, whether it was but a dream or something more," said Mary, who happened to be by.
"Thank you, Mary," he returned. "You and Letty have saved me from what I dare not think of! I could die happy now—if it weren't for one thing."
"What is that?" asked Mary.