"She is very much exhausted. Presently you can go to her for a minute. It has been a complicated case, but we anticipate no further complications."
Quinney burst into tears.
Both doctors consoled him, taking him by the arm, patting his shoulder, telling him that he was the father of a robust infant, that there was no cause whatever for unreasonable anxiety. Not till they were on the point of leaving the cottage did the distracted father remember the decanter of port.
"Come in here, gentlemen, please."
They followed him into the dining-room, and three glasses were duly charged.
"My son!" said Quinney, holding up his glass.
Dr. Ransome stared at him, then he smiled.
"Don't you know? Didn't we tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"You are the father, my dear sir, of a ten-pound daughter!"