There was a bright moon, I remember, and I could see the long, low bungalow, with windows gleaming through the palm-trees. A woman’s figure emerged from the house and came down the white shell-path to meet me. My heart leaped. My beloved!
But then I saw it was the English maid, whom I had come to know in New York; I saw, too, that her face was alight with excitement. “Oh, my lady!” she cried. “The baby’s come!”
It was like a blow in the face. “What?” I gasped.
“Came early this morning. A girl.”
“But—I thought it wasn’t till next week!”
“I know, but it’s here. In that terrible storm, when we thought the house was going to be washed away! Oh, my lady, it’s the loveliest baby!”
I had presence of mind enough to try to hide my dismay. The semi-darkness was a fortunate thing for me. “How is the mother?” I asked.
“Splendid. She’s asleep now.”
“And the child?”
“Oh! Such a dear you never saw!”