[CHAPTER XVI.]
Half dead with weariness and sorrow, Mrs. St. John staggered into her mother's presence with the wailing infant in her arms.
She sank down upon the floor by the side of the couch and laid the child on her mother's breast, moaning out:
"I found him down there, lying on the wet sand all alone, mamma—all alone! Oh! Lora, Lora!"
A heart-rending moan broke from Mrs. Carroll's lips. Her face was gray and death-like in the chill morning light.
She closed her arms around the babe and strained it fondly to her breast.
"Mamma, are you better? Can you speak yet? I have much to tell you," said Xenie, anxiously.
Mrs. Carroll made a violent effort at articulation, then shook her head, despairingly.
"I will send for the doctor as soon as the maid returns. She cannot be long now—it is almost broad daylight," said Xenie, with a heavy sigh. "And in the meantime I will feed the babe. It is cold and hungry. Mamma, shall I give it a little milk and water, warmed and sweetened?"