"Yes."
He put his hand before its little face.
"See how weak I'm grown, Margaret, when I want the courage to look at it! Let her be, a moment. I won't hurt her. It's long ago, but—What's her name?"
"Margaret," she answered quickly.
"I'm glad of that," he said. "I'm glad of that!"
He seemed to breathe more freely; and after pausing for an instant, took away his hand, and looked upon the infant's face. But covered it again, immediately.
"Margaret!" he said; and gave her back the child. "It's Lilian's."
"Lilian's!"
"I held the same face in my arms when Lilian's mother died and left her."
"When Lilian's mother died and left her!" she repeated, wildly.