"Hardly," was the reply: "certainly none for the worse."
"Will she get over it, do you think?" The father's tones were unsteady as he asked the question.
"My dear captain, it is impossible to tell yet," Arthur said feelingly; "but we must try to hope for the best."
Their hands met in a warm clasp.
"I shall certainly do so," the captain said. "But you are not going to leave us,—especially not in this storm?"
"No: I expect to pass the night in the house, ready to be summoned at a moment's notice, should any change take place."
"Thank you: it will be a great satisfaction to us to know we have you close at hand." And the captain turned and entered the nursery, which Arthur had just left.
Violet, seated by the side of the crib where her baby lay, looked up on her husband's entrance, greeting him with a smile of mingled love and sadness.
"Your dear presence is such a comfort and support!" she murmured as he drew near. "I don't like to lose sight of you for a single moment."
"Nor I of you, dearest," he answered, bending down to kiss her pale cheek, then taking a seat close beside her; "but I had to seek solitude for a time while fighting a battle with myself. Since that I have been with Lulu."