Take him, then, and don't be ashamed to carry him yourself just because I'm here; you know you would delight to do it if I weren't." Barker bent over the silken lap in which the child was comfortably nestling, and in that attitude had a faint consciousness that Mrs.
Horncastle was mischievously breathing into his curls a silent laugh.
Barker lifted his firstborn with proud skillfulness, but that sagacious infant evidently knew when he was comfortable, and in a paroxysm of objection caught his father's curls with one fist, while with the other he grasped Mrs.Horncastle's brown braids and brought their heads into contact.

Upon which humorous situation Norah, the nurse, entered.
"It's all right, Norah," said Mrs.Horncastle, laughing, as she disengaged herself from the linking child.

"Mr.Barker has claimed the baby, and has agreed to forgive you and me and say nothing to Mrs.
Barker." Norah, with the inscrutable criticism of her sex on her sex, thought it extremely probable, and halted with exasperating discretion.
"There," continued Mrs.Horncastle, playfully evading the child's further advances, "go with papa, that's a dear.

Mr.Barker prefers to carry him back, Norah." "But," said the ingenuous and persistent Barker, still lingering in hopes of recalling the woman's previous expression, "you DO love children, and you think him a bright little chap for his age ?" "Yes," said Mrs.Horncastle, putting back her loosened braid, "so round and fat and soft.

And such a discriminating eye for jewelry.