"What is it now, Daniel?" his wife questioned. "That is the fourth time you've chuckled already to-night. It seems to take very little to amuse you."
"Suppose the baby isn't a girl after all, dear?" the parson replied, ignoring his wife's sarcastic remark.
"Not a girl! What do you mean?"
"Suppose she should be a boy, after all?"
"The idea is ridiculous, Daniel. Don't you suppose I know a girl from a boy?"
"Very well, then, read that," and the clergyman handed her the slip of paper.
"Please take care of Rodney. I will come for him some day. The Lord will reward you even if I can't.
"HIS MOTHER."
As Mrs. Royal read this brief note, a peculiar expression overspread her face. She uttered no word, but her head drooped lower over the baby and she remained very still. Her husband at once realising how she felt, laid his hand upon hers.
"There, there, dear," he soothed. "I didn't mean to make you feel badly. It was only a little mistake after all, and I am really glad it is a boy, for if will make us think that we have Alec with us again."