There was a canopy of rose silk over the tiny bed, and a silk counterpane of a rose-bud pattern.
After Evelyn had finished her hot milk, her father carried her up-stairs into this little nest, and Josephine undressed her and put her to bed.

The child's head drooped as helplessly as a baby's all the time, she was so overcome with sleep.

When she was in bed, Ida came in and kissed her.

She was so fast asleep that she did not know.
She and Harry stood for a moment contemplating the little thing, with her yellow hair spread over the white pillow and her round rose of a face sunken therein.

Harry put his arm around his wife's waist.
"We ought to be very thankful, dear," he said, and he almost sobbed.
"Yes," said Ida.