their stomach which does the asking.

But 'tis they who do the actual asking, is it not?

Perhaps so; but they do not always get.

[The Old Women chuckle again. Presently the screams recommence behind the scenes.]

There! She is screaming again!

'Tis a strange 'fact, but animals seem to have easier young-bearing than women do.

Yes, and easier dying too—and easier living, into the bargain. You should see how sleek and contented my cat is!

The same with my dog. Every day I say to him, 'Your turn too will come to die,' but he only grins at me, and goes on wagging his tail as merrily as ever.

Ah, but they are only animals.

Well, and what else are women?

[Again the Old Women chuckle.]

Dying, or about to be delivered, she has nearly come to the end of her strength now. You can tell that by the sound of her cries.

I can see her eyes starting!

And the cold sweat on her brow!

[Again the Old Women chuckle.]

She is about to be delivered!

No, she is dying!

[Suddenly the screams cease.]

I tell you——

[At this instant the Being in Grey stands out momentarily in clearer relief as he exclaims in a deep, sonorous voice:]

Silence ye! A man is being born into the world.

[And almost as he speaks the cry of a baby is heard behind the scenes, and the tall candle in the hand of the Being bursts into flame. At first weak and, fitful, the flame grows stronger by degrees; yet though the corner in which the Being is standing is in deeper shadow than the rest of the scene, the candle's yellow light is in minates only his tightly compressed lips, high cheekbones, and prominent chin, while the rest of his face remains hidden, as before, in the shadow of the cowl. In stature he is above the ordinary height of man, and the candle in his hand is proportionately tall and massive. Set in a candlestick of antique design (the green bronze of which causes the fingers encircling it to show up grey and stonelike as those of some statue'), the candle burns up with sufficient brightness to make the crouching forms of the Old Women stand out clearly from the obscurity. Also, the room is now seen to be a high and perfectly square apartment, with bare, colourless walls; while both in the back wall and in the wall to the right are curtainless casement windows, through which the outer night shows darkly. Ranged against the walls are a number of chairs with high, straight backs.]

[The Old Women begin to utter excited exclamations.]

Hark! People are hurrying about! Presently they will be coming in here!

How light it is growing! Let us go, let us go!

See how clearly and steadily the candle burns!

Yes, let us go, let us go! Quickly, quickly!

Yes, let us go, let us go!

[Bursting into shrill laughter, they begin with weird, zigzag movements to shuffle away through the gloom. Yet, though, with their departure, the light grows stronger, there still remains a dim, cold, lifeless air about the scene.

[Enter a Doctor, accompanied by the Father of the Man. The Doctor is clad in a white hospital overall, and wears a look at once wise and self-important. Contrariwise, the Father's face, though expressive of great relief, is deeply scored with anxiety. Also, his cheeks look sunken, his hair is dishevelled, and his clothes are in much disorder.]

The Doctor.

Up to; the very last moment I was in doubt as to whether your wife would come safely through it. I brought all my knowledge and skill to bear upon her, but even the most skilful doctor is of little avail unless Nature herself come to his aid. Besides, I was feeling very nervous. Even yet my pulse is throbbing. Curiously enough, though I have helped to bring hundreds of babies into the world, I have never yet succeeded in overcoming a certain feeling of diffidence during the opera—— But you are not listening to me, sir?

The Father.

Oh yes, I am listening to you, but I cannot altogether take in what you say. Her screams still ring in my ears, and have made me dull of comprehension. Poor woman, how she suffered! In my folly and conceit I was so anxious to have a child, but now I renounce that criminal wish for ever.

The Doctor.

Oh, you will soon be sending for me again, when the next baby arrives.

The Father.

No, never! I am almost ashamed to say it, but I actually hate this child which has put her to such pain. I have not even seen it. What is it like?

The Doctor.

It is a fine, strong, healthy boy, and greatly, resembles yourself, if I mistake not.

The Father.

Oh, it resembles me, does it? Well, I am pleased at that! I begin to feel a little more drawn towards the child. It had always been my desire to have a boy—and especially one which resembled myself. You have seen the child. Has it, then, a nose like mine?

The Doctor.

Yes, and eyes too.

The Father.

And eyes? Oh, that is capital! I feel as though I ought to pay you a trifle over your fee.

The Doctor.

Well, let us call it an extra honorarium for the instruments which I had to use.

[The Father of the Man turns towards the corner wherein the figure of the Being in Grey stands motionless, and utters the following prayer:]

The Father.

O Lord and Creator of Life, I thank Thee for according me my heart's desire, and granting me a son like myself. I thank Thee also for watching over my beloved wife, and enabling her to bear the child in safety. I beseech Thee that the child may grow up wise and honourable, and that he may never at any time bring sorrow upon the heads of us, his father and mother. If Thou wilt grant me this my petition, I swear that I will trust in Thee for ever, and worship Thee in Thy Holy Temple. For I feel a great love arising in me for my son.

[Enter the Relations, to the number of six. First, there is a stout, elderly lady who has a double chin, small, puffy eyes, and a pompous, self-important manner. Next, there is her husband, who is so tall and thin that his clothes seem literally to hang on him, as on a clothes-peg. Also, he has spectacles, a short, pointed beard, smooth, damp-looking hair which straggles over his shoulders, and a manner which, though diffident, is also curiously didactic. In his hands he holds a black, low-crowned hat, and he appears to stand in awe of his wife. These two are accompanied by a young girl, their daughter, who has an impudently upturned nose, twinkling eyes, and a mouth perpetually half-open. Likewise there is a tall, thin lady, of sour, depressed mien, who at times wipes her lips with the handkerchief perpetually dangling from her hands. Finally, there are two youths, precisely identical in appearance, with long, thin necks encased in high collars, hair smoothly plastered over their foreheads, and an expression of bewilderment and vacuity on their faces which would seem to denote that their mental faculties are, as yet, but in the growing stage. ]

Elderly Lady.

Let me congratulate you, my dear brother, on the birth of a son.

Her Husband.

Let me congratulate you, my dear brother-in-law, on the advent of this long-expected child.

The Rest.

(In unison.) We all of us congratulate you, our dear kinsman.

The Father.

(With much emotion.) I thank you—I thank you all! You are most kind, good, and charming people, and I am greatly beholden to you. True, hitherto I had felt a little doubtful concerning you; for I had thought that you, my dear sister, were too much taken up with yourself and your many estimable qualities; that you, my dear brother-in-law, were inclined to be a trifle pedantic; and, as regards the rest, that they cared less for