"You remember Ann asked me if I cared. She said that when they came they had some strange nicknames, and that they wanted to make them forget about their former lives, and it really pleased the poor little things to have our names. I don't mind; do you, Floyd?"
"No," was the answer. "I only wish--" He stopped quickly and turned to his wife.
Her eyes were filled with tears. Floyd Vandecar's wish had been her own, that she knew.
"I wish you had a son, too, Floyd dear!" she sobbed. "Oh, my babies, my poor, pretty little babies!"
"Don't Fledra, don't!" pleaded her husband. "It was God's will, and we must bow to it."
"It's so hard, though, Floyd, so awfully hard, and the days have been so long! Floyd, do you ever wonder and wonder where they are?"
The man shook his shoulders sharply.
"Do I ever wonder, Fledra? My hair is whitened, my life shortened, and many of my efforts of no avail, because of my sorrow and yours. If the days have been long to you, they have been longer to me; if your heart has been torn over their disappearance, mine has been doubly hurt, because--because you have depended upon me to return them to you, and I have not been able to."
He spoke drearily, shading his face with his hand.
"Floyd, dear Floyd, I'm not blaming you. I realize that if it had been possible you would have given me back my babies, and you must not say that your efforts have been of no avail. Why, dear husband, the papers are full of your great, strong doings. I'm immensely proud of you." She had leaned over him; but the despondent man did not take the hand from his eyes.
"Of all the strange cases, Fledra, ours is the strangest. You remember how I turned the state almost upside down to find those children. Yet, with all the power I could bring to bear, I made no headway."
"I did not realize that you felt it so deeply," whispered the wife. "I've been so selfish--forgive me! We'll try to be as happy as possible, and we have Mildred--"
"If we had a dozen children," replied the governor sadly, "our first babies would always have their places in our hearts."
"True," murmured the mother. "How true that is, Floyd! There is never a day but I feel the touch of their fingers, remember their sweet baby ways. And always, when I look at you, I think of them. They were so like their father."