our family circle."

There she stopped: expecting me, as I fancied, to guess what she
meant. A woman, and that woman a mother, might have fulfilled
her anticipations. A man, and that man not listening attentively,
was simply puzzled.

"Pray excuse my stupidity," I said; "I don't quite understand
you."

The lady's temper looked at me out of the lady's shifting eyes,
and hid itself again in a moment. She set herself right
in my estimation by taking the whole blame of our little
misunderstanding on her own innocent shoulders.

"I ought to have spoken more plainly," she said. "Let me try
what I can do now. After many years of disappointment in
my married life, it has pleased Providence to bestow on me
the happiness--the inexpressible happiness--of being a mother.
My baby is a sweet little girl; and my one regret is that
I cannot nurse her myself."

My languid interest in the Minister's wife was not stimulated
by the announcement of this domestic event.

I felt no wish to see the "sweet little girl"; I was not even
reminded of another example of long-deferred maternity, which
had occurred within the limits of my own family circle. All my
sympathies attached themselves to the sad little figure of the
adopted child. I remembered the poor baby on my knee, enchanted