The Nest Builder
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Beatrice Forbes Robertson Hale >> The Nest Builder
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"What a good day it has been, dearest. I hope you aren't too tired," she
said, as she rocked the drowsy baby.
"No, Beautiful, only a little."
He dropped his burnt-out cigarette into the ash-tray at his side. The
rocker creaked rhythmically.
"Mary, I want to draw Rosamond," said Stefan thoughtfully.
"Oh, do you, dearest? That _will_ be nice!" she exclaimed, her face
breaking into a smile of pleasure.
"Yes. Do you know, I was watching the little thing this afternoon, when
Gunther and all the others were playing with her. It's very strange--I
never noticed it before--but it came to me quite suddenly. She's exactly
like my mother."
"Is she really?" Mary murmured, touched.
"Yes, it's very wonderful. I felt suddenly, watching her eyes and smile,
that my mother is not dead after all. Will you--" he seemed a little
embarrassed--"could you, do you think, without disturbing her, let me
hold the baby for a little while?"
THE END
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