'You have the crib too much tilted,' he said. He put his hands to it to counterbalance her weight, but she raised her head from the side and the crib righted itself. He still kept his hand where he had placed it, without any reason for so doing.
'Philip,' she said again, with passionate entreaty in her voice, 'you do not wish my darling to die?'
'How can you ask such a foolish question?' he answered. 'I am afraid the long night-watching has been too much for you.'
'Oh, Philip—you do love him? You do love him—although there is something of me in him. But——' she said hastily, 'he is mostly yours. He is like you, he has dark hair and eyes, and his name is Philip, and of course he is, he is a Pennycomequick! Oh, Philip! You love him dearly?'
'Of course I love him; he is my child. Why do you doubt?'
'Because,' she said, 'I—I am his mother. But that is all—I am only a sort of superior nurse. He is a Pennycomequick through and through, and there is no—no—nothing of what you dread in him.'
'Yes, he is a Pennycomequick.'
'He can, he will be no other than a good and noble man. He can, he will be that, if God spares him.'
'So I trust.'
'Oh, Philip—he is better, so much better. I am sure there is a turn. I thank God—indeed, indeed I do. Look at his dear little face; it is cool again.'