On the morning of that day the captain came to the children’s sitting-room with a face even brighter and happier than its wont.
“Lulu,” he said, when he had kissed his little girls good-morning, “go up to Max’s door and tell him I want him. He will find me here; but if he is not quite ready for breakfast, I will wait a little for him.”
Lulu obeyed, wonderingly, but asking no questions, and returned almost immediately, bringing Max with her.
The captain held out his hand to his son with a pleasant “Good-morning, my boy.”
“Good-morning, papa,” returned Max, putting his hand into that of his father, and looking up into his face inquiringly and with some little surprise.
“Lu said you wanted me.”
“Yes,” the captain said. “I want you all to come with me to the nursery,” and taking a hand of each of the little girls he led the way, Max following, and all three wondering what it meant.
Little Elsie lay sleeping in her crib, but another crib was there, and to that the captain went, and, turning down the cover with gentle hand, brought to view a tiny pink head and face, and doubled up fist.
“Here, Max,” he said with a joyous smile, “is a brother for you, for Lulu and Gracie, too,” he added, glancing from one to the other.
“I’ve a warm welcome for him,” laughed Max, bending down to look more closely at the tiny face; “you couldn’t have given me a present I’d like better, papa. But dare a fellow touch the little chap?”