“Oh, August, she is lovely!” she murmured, in husky, unsteady tones. “And, dear, my heart longs for her!”
Mr. Damon stood looking down upon the two for a moment, while he seemed struggling with some deep emotion.
He took one of the little soft hands that lay outside the heavily wrought blanket tenderly in his own, and bent for a nearer view of the small face.
“Her eyes are blue,” he said, under his breath.
“Yes, like our own darling’s. Oh, August, we will take her, will we not?” pleaded his wife, eagerly.
A look of fondest love leaped into his eyes as they met hers, but he did not reply to her just then.
He turned again to Mrs. Marston.
“I have an important question which I feel it necessary to ask you?” he began.
“In a moment,” she returned, and signed to the nurse to withdraw.
“Now, if you please,” she added, as the door closed after the woman.