Now, they were the new parents of a fine-spirited baby girl. At least, they imagined she was in fine spirits, as her cries sounded as bad-tempered as anything that ever emanated from Felicity herself.

As the baby had finally decided to stop her wailing and get some sleep in order to be energized for the next round, the family was let into see her, one at a time, so they did not disturb.

As Patience waited her turn, she listened to her father and Mr. Stratton talk about daughters. According to the duke, no opinion, feeling, or tragic weeping was to be dismissed out of hand. It was all in the nature of things and to deny its validity would only bring it on ten times stronger and longer. The duke advised Mr. Stratton to trim his sails and prepare himself for a gusty breeze if he wished to keep his daughterly boat afloat.

Mr. Stratton was all smiles and nods. Patience wondered if he even heard the duke’s advice. He only kept murmuring, “She is perfect.” Every minute or so he gazed lovingly up at the ceiling.

Finally, Valor returned weeping. “She is so pretty, you will just not believe it. She is a little red and wrinkly and her eyes are a little crossed, but Felicity says that will all pass and once she is not red, wrinkly, and cross-eyed, she will be so pretty.”

Grace, who had prior experience, nodded knowingly. Patience could only assume young Miles Delacort had also arrived a bit red, wrinkly, and cross-eyed.

“Patience, Felicity says to send you up next,” Valor said.