“Yes,” she said with emotion. “And what a dear father he is! I am so glad and thankful that he seems to look upon me as his very own daughter. I had been so hungry for a father after my own was taken to the better land.”
“Yes, dearest, I think I can understand that hunger, though I have been spared the sad experience,” replied Max, his tone speaking even more sympathy than his words.
“And, oh,” he added, “I want my little wife to be the most blessed, happy woman in the world.”
“I ought to be; and I think I am when my husband is with me,” she returned with a smile of love and joy. “What is it, Kitty?” as a servant came in, looking as if she had some pleasant news to impart.
“Why, missus, dere’s sumfin’ jus’ come over from Woodburn. De cap’n he sends it for de baby,” replied the woman, grinning broadly as she spoke.
“Ah, is that so?” asked Max. “Where and what is it?”
“Sumfin’ for de baby to ride in, sah, an’ it’s out on de poach,” she answered, hurriedly leading the way, Eva and Max following, he with the baby still in his arms.
They presently found on the front veranda as handsome a baby carriage as either of them had ever seen, and were both delighted with it. It was ready furnished with pillows, and a beautiful afghan of a most delicate shade of baby-blue silk lined with white silk, covered with white duchess lace, with blue ribbon bows on each corner, to match the umbrella, it being of the same shade, and also covered with duchess lace. On a corner of the afghan was pinned a bit of paper bearing the words: “From Grandmamma Vi to little Mary Raymond.” On the under side of the afghan were the initials “M. R.” in blue embroidery silk.