Things that were great before seem small, and some things that were small seem great.
At least Bertram and Billy found their world thus changed when together they came back bringing their son with them.
In the long weeks of convalescence, when the healthy rosiness stole bit by bit into the baby's waxen face, and the light of recognition and understanding crept day by day into the baby's eyes, there was many a quiet hour for heart-to-heart talks between the two who so anxiously and joyously hailed every rosy tint and fleeting sparkle.

And there was so much to tell, so much to hear, so much to talk about! And always, running through everything, was that golden thread of joy, beside which all else paled--that they had Baby and each other.

As if anything else mattered! To be sure, there was Bertram's arm.

Very early in their talks Billy found out about that.

But Billy, with Baby getting well, was not to be daunted, even by this.
"Nonsense, darling--not paint again, indeed! Why, Bertram, of course you will," she cried confidently.
"But, Billy, the doctor said," began Bertram; but Billy would not even listen.
"Very well, what if he did, dear ?" she interrupted.