hispered：
〃This woman's baby has just died。〃
Mr。 Stone's face underwent the queer discoloration which marked the sudden summoning of his far thoughts。 He stepped past Martin； and went up to Mrs。 Hughs。
He stood there a long time gazing at the baby； and at the dark head bending over it with such despair。 At last he spoke：
〃Poor woman！ He is at peace。〃
Mrs。 Hughs looked up； and； seeing that old face； with its hollows and thin silver hair； she spoke：
〃He's dead； sir。〃
Mr。 Stone put out his veined and fragile hand； and touched the baby's toes。 〃He is flying； he is everywhere； he is close to the sun Little brother！〃 And turning on his heel； he went out。
Thyme followed him as he walked on tiptoe down stairs which seemed to creak the louder for his caution。 Tears were rolling down her cheeks。
Martin sat on； with the mother and her baby； in the close； still room； where； like strange visiting spirits； came stealing whiffs of the perfume of hyacinths。
CHAPTER XXVII
STEPHEN'S PRIVATE LIFE
Mr。 Stone and Thyme； going out； again passed the tall； white young man。 He had thrown away the hand…made cigarette； finding that it had not enough saltpetre to make it draw； and was smoking one more suited to the action of his lungs。 He directed towards them the same lack… lustre； jeering stare。
Unconscious； seemingly； of where he went； Mr。 Stone walked with his eyes fixed on space。 His head jerked now and then； as a dried flower will shiver in a draught。
Scared at these movements； Thyme took his arm。 The touch of that soft young arm squeezing his own brought speech back to Mr。 Stone。
〃In those places。。。。〃 he said； 〃in those streets！ 。。。I shall not see the flowering of the aloeI shall not see the living peace！ 'As with dogs； each couched over his proper bone； so men were living then！'〃 Thyme； watching him askance； pressed still closer to his side； as though to try and warm him back to every day。
'Oh！' went her guttered thoughts。 'I do wish grandfather would say something one could understand。 I wish he would lose that dreadful stare。'
Mr。 Stone spoke in answer to his granddaughter's thoughts。
〃I have seen a vision of fraternity。 A barren hillside in the sun； and on it a man of stone talking to the wind。 I have heard an owl hooting in the daytime； a cuckoo singing in the night。〃
〃Grandfather； grandfather！〃
To that appeal Mr。 Stone responded： 〃Yes； what is it？〃
But Thyme； thus challenged； knew not what to say； having spoken out of terror。
〃If the poor baby had lived；〃 she stammered out； 〃it would have grown up。。。。 It's all for the best； isn't it？〃
〃Everything is for the best；〃 said Mr。 Stone。 〃'In those days men； possessed by thoughts of individual life； made moan at death； careless of the great truth that the world was one unending song。'〃
Thyme thought： 'I have never seen him as bad as this！' She drew him on more quickly。 With deep relief she saw her father； latchkey in hand； turning into the Old Square。
Stephen； who was still walking with his springy step； though he had come on foot the whole way from the Temple； hailed them with his hat。 It was tall and black； and very shiny； neither quite oval nor positively round； and had a little curly brim。 In this and his black coat； cut so as to show the front of him and cover the behind； he looked his best。 The costume suited his long； rather narrow face； corrugated by two short parallel lines slanting downwards from his eyes and nostrils on either cheek； suited his neat； thin figure and the close…lipped corners of his mouth。 His permanent appointment in the world of Law had ousted from his life （together with all uncertainty of income） the need for putting on a wig and taking his moustache off； but he still preferred to go clean…shaved。
〃Where have you two sprung from？〃 he inquired； admitting them into the hall。
Mr。 Stone gave him no answer； but passed into the drawing…room； and sat down on the verge of the first chair he came across； leaning forward with his hands between his knees。
Stephen； after one dry glance at him； turned to his daughter。
〃My child；〃 he said softly； 〃what have you brought the old boy here for？ If there happens to be anything of the high mammalian order for dinner； your mother will have a fit。〃
Thyme answered： 〃Don't chaff； Father！〃
Stephen； who was very fond of her； saw that for some reason she was not herself。 He examined her with unwonted gravity。 Thyme turned away from him。 He heard； to his alarm； a little gulping sound。
〃My dear！〃 he said。
Conscious of her sentimental weakness； Thyme made a violent effort。
〃I've seen a baby dead；〃 she cried in a quick； hard voice； and； without another word； she ran upstairs。
In Stephen there was a horror of emotion amounting almost to disease。 It would have been difficult to say when he had last shown emotion； perhaps not since Thyme was born； and even then not to anyone except himself； having first locked the door； and then walked up and down； with his teeth almost meeting in the mouthpiece of his favourite pipe。 He was unaccustomed； too； to witness this weakness on the part of other people。 His looks and speech unconsciously discouraged it； so that if Cecilia had been at all that way inclined； she must long ago have been healed。 Fortunately； she never had been； having too much distrust of her own feelings to give way to them completely。 And Thyme； that healthy product of them both； at once younger for her age； and older； than they had ever been； with her incapacity for nonsense； her love for open air and factsthat fresh； rising plant； so elastic and so saneshe had never given them a single moment of uneasiness。
Stephen； close to his hat…rack； felt soreness in his heart。 Such blows as Fortune had dealt； and meant to deal him； he had borne； and he could bear； so long as there was nothing in his own manner； or in that of others； to show him they were blows。
Hurriedly depositing his hat； he ran to Cecilia。 He still preserved the habit of knocking on her door before he entered； though she had never； so far； answered； 〃Don't come in！〃 because she knew his knock。 The custom gave； in fact； the measure of his idealism。 What he feared； or what he thought he feared； after nineteen years of unchecked entrance； could never have been ascertained； but there it was； that flower of something formal and precise； of something reticent； within his soul。
This time； for once； he did not knock； and found Cecilia hooking up her tea…gown and looking very sweet。 She glanced at him with mild surprise。
〃What's this； Cis；〃 he said； 〃about a baby dead？ Thyme's quite upset about it； and your dad's in the drawing…room！〃
With the quick instinct that was woven into all her gentle treading； Cecilia's thoughts flewshe could not have told whyfirst to the little model； then to Mrs。 Hughs。
〃Dead？〃 she said。 〃Oh； poor woman！〃
〃What woman？〃 Stephen asked。
〃It must be Mrs。 Hughs。〃
The thought passed darkly through Stephen's mind： 'Those people again！ What now？' He did not express it； being neither brutal nor lacking in good taste。
A short silence followed； then Cecilia said suddenly： 〃Did you say that father was in the drawing…room？ There's fillet of beef； Stephen！〃
Stephen turned away。 〃Go and see Thyme！〃 he said。
Outside Thyme's door Cecilia paused； and； hearing no sound； tapped gently。 Her knock not being answered； she slipped in。 On the bed of that white room； with her face pressed into the pillow； her little daughter lay。 Cecilia stood aghast。 Thyme's whole body was quivering with suppressed sobs。
〃My darling！〃 said Cecilia； 〃what is it？〃
Thyme's answer was inarticulate。
Cecilia sat down on the bed and waited； drawing her fingers through the girl's hair； which had fallen loose； and while she sat there she experienced all that sore； strange feelingas of being skinned which comes to one who watches the emotion of someone near and dear without knowing the exact cause。
'This is dreadful；' she thought。 'What am I to do？'
To see one's child cry was bad enough； but to see her cry when that child's whole creed of honour and conduct for years past had precluded this relief as unfeminine； was worse than disconcerting。
Thyme raised herself on her elbow； turning her face carefully away。
〃I don't know what's the matter with me；〃 she said； choking。 〃It's it's purely physical〃
〃Yes； darling；〃 murmured Cecilia； 〃I know。〃
〃Oh； Mother！〃 said Thyme suddenly； 〃it looked so tiny。〃
〃Yes； yes； my sweet。〃
Thyme faced round； there was a sort of passion in her darkened eyes； rimmed pink with grief； and in all her gushed； wet face。
〃Why should it have been choked out like that？ It'sit's so brutal！〃
Cecilia slid an arm round her。
〃I'm so distressed you saw it； dear；〃 she said。
〃And grandfather was so〃 A long sobbing quiver choked her utterance。
〃Yes； yes；〃 said Cecilia； 〃I'm sure he was。〃
Clasping her hands together in her lap； Thyme muttered： 〃He called him 'Little brother。'〃
A tear trickled down Cecilia's cheek； and dropped on her daughter's wrist。 Feeling that it was not her own tear； Thyme started up。
〃It's weak and ridiculous；〃 she said。 〃I won't！〃
Oh； go away； Mother； please。 I'm only making you feel bad； too。 You'd better go and see to grandfather。〃
Cecilia saw that she would cry no more； and since it was the sight of tears which had so disturbed her； she gave the girl a little hesitating stroke； and went away。 Outside she thought： 'How dreadfully unlucky and pathetic； and there's father in the drawing… room！' Then she hurried down to Mr。 Stone。
He was sitting where he had first placed himself； motionless。 It struck her suddenly how frail and white he looked。 In the shadowy light of her drawing…room； he was almost like a spirit sitting there in his grey tweedsilvery from head to foot。 Her conscience smote her。 It is written of the very old that they shall pass； by virtue of their long travel； out of the country of the understanding of the young； till the natural affections are blurred by creeping mists such as steal across the moors when the sun is going down。
Cecilia's heart ached with a little ache for all the times she had thought： 'If father were