Queenie put her gently into a chair, and then she saw a little, dark-eyed lad looking at her with a great deal of wonder.
"What a lovely boy!" she said, "and it is yours, Queenie, I know, for he looks so like your husband."
"Yes," answered Queenie, proudly; then she led her little son up to her sister.
"Robbie, you must kiss your aunt," she said.
Lady Valentine stayed a long while with Queenie, and many mutual, touching confidences were exchanged by the long-parted sisters. At last she rose to go.
"May I have Robbie a little while?" she asked.
"You may go with your aunt, my dear," said Queenie, kissing the child.
Lady Valentine took his hand and led him away to a room where a gray-haired lady was sitting alone in the fast-falling twilight with a grave, rather sad expression on her handsome old face. Georgie lifted up Robbie and placed him on the lady's knee.
"Grandmother," she said, half-laughing, half-crying, "kiss your grandson."
"It is Queenie's child!" cried Mrs. Lyle, pressing him to her heart, and kissing him, then crying over him in her womanly joy and excitement.