The Bairn of Brianag

I ran down to him. "She is well!" I said, and threw my arms around him again. "And you have a son!"

"A son!" he whispered. "A son!"

He held me out at arm's length, his eyes searching mine. "Catherine is well?"

"Yes, yes, John, she is quite well! Soon you can go in to see her and your son!" I hurried into the drawing room and splashed sherry into glasses, the neck of the carafe rattling against the rims. "Come, John, let us drink! I for one can stand a bit of fortifying!" I said.

A short while later, the doctor came down the stairs and spoke with John, telling him that all was indeed well; his wife was recovering already and the infant was hardy. I could see that John was burning with impatience; I went back up the stairs to see if the midwife was finished with Cathy and to help her with her toilet.

She was sitting against pillows in the bed, with the bairn at her breast. I stopped short, my breath catching in my throat. I had never seen her so beautiful. She looked at me and her smile lit her face like an angel's.

"Look at him, Jessie! Already he suckles!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with delight.

"What a little man he is! What a little champion!"

I approached the bed slowly. The bairn's head was covered with black hair; his tiny hand was clenched in a dark red fist against Cathy's white skin. His jaw worked strongly, clutching and pulling at her breast. I knelt on the stool by the bed and leaned my head against her shoulder, gazing at the child. "Oh, Cathy, he is beautiful," I said. "So beautiful."

Her hand reached up and patted my cheek. "Thank you for being with me, Jessie, dear. Thank you."

"I shall comb your hair for you when you are finished," I said. "And then, Cathy dear, I must go home."

"Go home?" she said, still looking at the child.

"Yes, I must. I am lonely for Kevin and Papa," I said, making the only excuse I could think of; but I didn't believe that she heard me. Her ears heard only the soft sounds of her child; her heart was too full to notice my distress, and for that I was very grateful.

When I came out to invite John in, he bounded up the stairs. His trembling hand squeezed mine briefly; I opened the door to let him in. As I looked into the room, Cathy raised her face to his, looking more angelic than ever; John rushed forward and fell to his knees beside the bed, taking her hand, and his head dropped. His shoulders shook so that I knew he must be weeping; I took one more look and closed the door.