"But is it not always so, Rob? Is there not a thread of sorrow running through every earthly joy?"
"Yes, even our little Mary has found that out. I think I told you how perfectly happy she was over the twins; but in less than fifteen minutes, she found cause for sorrow in the fact that there was not a third baby to be called Frank."
"Yes, I remember. But you have not answered my question about our friends who are planning a trip to Europe."
"Your husband's name heads the list, Elizabeth; and it remains for you to decide whether he will go alone, or have the company of any other members of the family."
"You are joking, Frank."
"I was never more in earnest."
"I wish from my heart that he was joking, Elizabeth," and Mr. Selwyn repeated some of the facts of the case.
"And are your partners aware that your wife has not only herself but three children to get ready for this trip? However, we shall manage. As you say, the pleasure will be marred to some extent by the pain of parting from this good, old brother of ours; but after all," and Mrs. Selwyn seated herself on the arm of the Doctor's chair and ran her fingers through his hair, "a year passes quickly, and the thought that Mary is growing well and strong in the wonderful Italian climate will help you through the lonely hours. But, Frank," an anxious note sounded in her voice, "do you think she will be equal to the trip in another week? She is doing nicely, I know, but she has not yet been up even in a chair."
"No, Elizabeth, Mary will not be able to make that trip next week nor next month," the Doctor gently replied. "I have just explained to Rob that an ocean voyage for her before the first of June will, without doubt, have a very sad ending."
"Why, Frank! what are we to do? I cannot think of allowing Rob to go away alone and live hotel life for a whole year! And Mary—oh, after the agony of that awful week, I cannot bear to be parted from her now when she needs me so much!"