Left alone with me, for Gringo and Walter Scott with exquisite dog propriety had followed their owners, master gave me the whole story.
“Come up, Boy,” he said patting his knees, and I jumped up.
It seems he had rushed to a train in the morning, reached the country place where the hospital is situated, and driven rapidly there.
A smiling nurse had led him to a room where there were ever so many baby cots all tagged and numbered. She showed him one lovely, weeny child tagged Granton. Master nearly went crazy. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, believe at first that it was his, and the head physician explained, that after consultation with master’s own physician in New York, they had decided to gratify Mrs. Granton, who had wished to surprise her husband, and not let him know that a baby was coming to her. It was unusual, the doctor said, but it had to be done, as they feared for her reason, if they deceived her.
“Take me to her, take me to her,” said my master. “I forgive the deception. The mother of my child can do no wrong.”
At first he had great trouble. She longed to see him, yet did not want to. There was a great change in her appearance. Finally, after sending message after message, he prevailed upon her to let him pay a five-minute call.
He did not tell me everything just here, but I knew by what he did say, that dear mistress had lost all her pretty looks, and yet now she was more attractive than ever in his eyes.
“It’s the soul shining through, Boy, that counts,” he said with tears in his eyes. “She is a madonna now.”
When was the baby coming home, that is what I wanted to know, but I did not find out till the Bonstones came back in the room.
Mistress and young master were to return home in three weeks.