“Yes—and because I knew you would say that—I could come to you. You—do not blame Con?”
“Blame him! Why, Lyn, a gentleman doesn’t take a woman off her beastly pedestal; she comes down herself—if she isn’t a fool.”
“Well, Betty, I’m down! I’m down, and I’m going to crawl to Con, if necessary, and then—I think he’ll lift me up.”
“He’ll never pull you down, that’s one sure thing!”
“Oh! thank you, Betty. Thank you.”
“But, Lyn—what has so suddenly brought you to your senses?”
“Your little baby, Betty!”
“My—baby!” The words came in a hard, gasping breath.
“I held him when he died, Betty. I had never been close to a baby before—never! A strange thing happened to me as I looked at him. It was like knowing what a flower would be while holding only the bud. The baby’s eyes had the same expression I have seen in Con’s eyes—in Brace’s; I know now it is the whole world’s look. It was full of wonder—full of questions as to what it all meant. I am sure that it comes and goes but never really is answered—here, Betty.”
“Oh! Lyn. And I have been bitter—miserable—because I felt that it wasn’t fair to take my baby until he had done some little work in the world! And now—why, he did a great thing. My little, little baby!” Betty was clinging to Lynda, crying as if all the agony were swept away forever.