“I’m sure,” he once said to Rosamund, “women feel much more like mothers when they have a baby than men feel like fathers.”
“I feel like a mother all over,” she replied, bending above the child. “In every least little bit of me.”
“Then do you feel completely changed?”
“Completely, utterly.”
Dion sat still for a moment gazing at her. She felt his look, perhaps, for she lifted her head, and her eyes went from the baby to him.
“What is it, Rosamund? What are you considering?”
“Well——” She hesitated. “Perhaps no one could quite understand, but I feel a sense of release.”
“Release! From what?”
Again she hesitated; then she looked once more at the child almost as if she wished to gain something from his helplessness. At last she said:
“Dion, as you’ve given me him, I’ll tell you. Very often in the past I’ve had an urgent desire some day to enter into the religious life.”