But though his conscience should have instantly acquitted him, deep in his lonely heart the child-hunger gnawed, unsatisfied. If only there had been other children of his own—younger ones to play with, to have near him in his solitude, to cuddle, to caress, to fuss over as he and his dead wife had fussed over their only baby!——
"Steve?"
"Sir?"
"You are sure you will be quite happy here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you——" A pause; and again he looked up into the child's face, and again she smiled.
"Steve, I never had a little girl. It's funny, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
A silence.
"Would you like to—to go to a private school?"