For my own part , I was bewildered . All the questions I had not asked before came crowding to my mind how . Whose child was this ? Whence had he come ? What was the meaning of it all ? He was a pretty baby , fair and plump and rosy . When he was dried and fed , he fell asleep in Josie 's arms . She hung over him in a passion of delight . It was with difficulty I persuaded her to leave him long enough to change her wet clothes . She never asked whose he might be or from where he might have come . He had been sent to her from the sea ; the dream-child had led her to him ; that was what she believed , and I dared not throw any doubt on that belief . She slept that night with the baby on her arm , and in her sleep her face was the face of a girl in her youth , untroubled and unworn . I expected that the morrow would bring some one seeking the baby . I had come to the conclusion that he must belong to the `` Cove '' across the harbor , where the fishing hamlet was ; and all day , while Josie laughed and played with him , I waited and listened for the footsteps of those who would come seeking him . But they did not come . Day after day passed , and still they did not come . I was in a maze of perplexity . What should I do ? I shrank from the thought of the boy being taken away from us . Since we had found him the dream-child had never called .
My wife seemed to have turned back from the dark borderland , where her feet had strayed to walk again with me XXXXX our own homely paths .
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