He rose from his knees somewhat comforted, so true is it that sincere prayer, if it accomplishes nothing else, is of real benefit to those who pray. He remembered the faked specimen of Early Worcester, and his resolution to sell it at the first opportunity. He rushed into the sitting-room, seized the cup and saucer, and smashed them. The violence of the action seemed to bind the bargain between himself and the Ruler of the Universe. Standing erect this time, he swore that faked china as well as faked oak was to be eternally repudiated. Let him perish, instead of Susan, if he failed to keep his word!
By an odd coincidence, he had hardly registered these vows when he realized that there was silence upstairs. Within a few minutes Maria poked her head into the room to report a marked improvement in Mrs. Biddlecombe.
"And your mistress?"
Maria shook her head.
"I know nothing about her, sir."
"Everything seems strangely quiet."
"Yes, sir; terribly so."
She dabbed at her eyes, inflamed already by much weeping, and withdrew. Quinney went to the foot of the stairs, listening. The suspense became excruciating, harder to endure than the anguished moaning of his wife. He never knew afterwards how long he remained there, but presently the door opened and the measured tread of both doctors was heard on the landing. They came slowly downstairs till they perceived Quinney. Dr. Ransome spoke, and his voice seemed to come from an immense distance:
"It's all over! Your child is born."
"Thank God!" exclaimed Quinney. He added tremulously: "And my poor wife?"