darling," she said, "have you told the good news to your husband?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't care, now, for anything that I can tell him."

"Nonsense, Stella! You may win him back to you by a word--and do you
hesitate to say the word? _I_ shall tell him!"

Stella suddenly drew herself away from her mother's caressing arm. "If
you do," she cried, "no words can say how inconsiderate and how cruel I
shall think you. Promise--on your word of honor--promise you will leave
it to me!"

"Will you tell him, yourself--if I leave it to you?"

"Yes--at my own time. Promise!"

"Hush, hush! don't excite yourself, my love; I promise. Give me a kiss.
I declare I am agitated myself!" she exclaimed, falling back into her
customary manner. "Such a shock to my vanity, Stella--the prospect of
becoming a grandmother! I really must ring for Matilda, and take a few
drops of red lavender. Be advised by me, my poor dear, and we will
turn the priest out of the house yet. When Romayne comes back from his
ridiculous Retreat--after his fasting and flagellation, and Heaven knows
what besides--_then_ bring him to his senses; then is the time to tell
him. Will you think of it?"