"O, yes. He didn't cry any at all, hardly."
"Heaven bless him!" murmured the mother, bending over and kissing him softly.
On the next morning, when she awoke, Mrs. Campbell felt a strange uneasiness about her child. Without waiting to dress herself, she went softly over to the room where Jane slept. It was only a little after day-light. She found both the child and nurse asleep. There was something in the atmosphere of the room that oppressed her lungs, and something peculiar in its odor. Without disturbing Jane, she stood for several minutes looking into the face of Henry. Something about it troubled her. It was not so calm as usual, nor had his skin that white transparency so peculiar to a babe.
"Jane," she at length said, laying her hand upon the nurse.
Jane roused up.
"How did Henry get along last night, Jane?"
"Very well, indeed, ma'am; he did not cry at all."
"Do you think he looks well?"
Jane turned her eyes to the face of the child, and regarded it for some time.
"O, yes, ma'am, he looks very well; he has been sleeping sound all night."