Five years have passed since the dedication of that beautiful home; years that have brought their changes; as time invariably does. The mystic rooms—the sanctum of the expectant mother—have been occupied, again and yet again. Our royal Margaret was the first to come under the spell of its sweet and wonderful influence. Giving herself up to the delightful occupations provided for in these secluded rooms, keeping ever in mind the grand result which was to come of it, one morning after a night of pain and suspense Wilbur kissed a fine, beautiful, healthy boy that was laid in his arms. Kneeling at her side with his head resting on the same pillow with the fair white face of his peerless Margaret the whisper greeted his ear:
“I am blessed today beyond the measure of women.”
Who shall say that his happiness did not equal her own.
Another had not been long in following her brave example. When Cora’s baby girl was laid upon her breast Owen’s measure of happiness was filled and tears blinded his eyes as he kissed the mother of his child.
The two sisters, Edith and Hilda, both brought joy and happiness to their lovers’ hearts by presenting them with miniature reflections of themselves, and Norman had held Imelda’s boy to his heart.
By this time the babies that first came to the new home were making glad the hearts of their mothers by their childish prattle; some of the mothers were watching the first trembling footsteps, and now Alice was waiting, watching for the coming hour. Milton watched with worshipful tenderness the little fairy whose love was life to him.
New faces also now greet us. New comers have helped to fill the precious home, who were just as good and worthy as those whose fortunes we have so long followed.
But to return to the young mothers. They did not devote all their time to their darling babies. O, no! Dearly as they loved them they found that they had other work to do while the little ones were left to the care of those who were perfectly trustworthy, Not to be petted, not to be pampered and spoiled, but left to those who understood how to get to the depths of each baby nature.
When it is remembered what preparation had been made for their advent it is not surprising that they were wonderfully good babies. When it is remembered with what joy they were welcomed—welcomed while still in the first stages of foetal growth; how carefully the prospective mothers had been kept under calm, sweet and pure influences; how their minds had been kept active without taxing their strength; how constantly their souls had been bathed in the luxury of sympathy and love; how every part of their natures had been kept teeming with life—overflowing life; how carefully undue excitement had been warded off; how they were given every opportunity for cultivating the higher instincts,—the spiritual nature;—when all this is remembered we cannot help seeing that, on the principle of natural causation, the children of such mothers and of such influences could not be other than exceptionally well endowed and exceptionally well behaved.
But when the months had passed, during which the mother should give her personal care and attention to her cherished babe, it was transferred to the sole care of the experienced nurse, and she herself returned to her usual work, whatever that work might happen to be. There were so many fields open, and each made her choice. The head gardener was glad to get help in the tending and nursing of his plants and flowers. Nimble, dextrous fingers were needed to fashion the garments to be worn by the occupants of the home, and this large and beautiful home needed many willing hands to keep it beautiful. All this however was work which could be entrusted to and performed by stronger hands, if other work should prove more attractive, work in which more than ordinary intelligence and skill were required. Among our band were teachers of music and song, as might be expected of the artist soul seeking expression. Margaret had kissed her lover and baby good bye and had given another season to her loved profession, and had returned again with, O, such longing and love for the home and the circle of loved ones it contained.