Arthur said a quick farewell and followed the doctor upstairs to the master bedroom. As they entered he saw Kitty in their bed, propped up against several cushions as she rested from her exertions. Her hair was plastered to her scalp by perspiration and her skin was pallid and waxy in appearance. She smiled weakly at her husband.

‘Arthur. Dear Arthur. Come to me.’ She raised a hand and he saw it tremble with the effort as he strode across the room and sat down beside her, taking her fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze.

‘I hear that we have a son.’

Kitty smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘Where is he?’

‘The midwife is just cleaning him up,’ Dr Hoxter explained.

Arthur nodded and turned back to Kitty.‘And you, my dear, how do you feel?’

‘Tired.’ She smiled bleakly. ‘Very tired.’

Arthur leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Kitty, you have made me so proud. I have never felt so happy.’

‘I am glad,Arthur dear.’ She stared into his eyes and he felt her fingers tighten around his. ‘I so want to make you happy, my love.’

‘And you have.’ Arthur smiled back and felt a stab of guilt in his heart as he recalled the bitter disappointment of their wedding and the days, weeks and months that followed it. He took a deep breath and continued, ‘I could not have asked for a better wife.And mother to my child.’

The door to the adjoining bathroom clicked open and Dr Hoxter clapped his hands together. ‘Ah! Here’s the little fellow. Come to say hello to his father.’

Arthur turned and saw the midwife approaching the bed with a bundle in her arms. She laid the swaddled infant gently down beside Kitty and Arthur leaned forward for a better look at his son. The face was tiny, wrinkled and pink and the lips moved slightly. The eyes were shut and the hands were raised on either side of the head, each one half clenched and no bigger than a penny.

Arthur felt his heart swell with such emotion as he had never felt before. He had a strange impulse to cry and only just stifled it as he swallowed and spoke with a tremor. ‘May I hold him?’

The midwife looked across the bed. ‘Why, of course you can, Sir Arthur.The moment he has fed.’

‘Fed? But he’s only just been born. By God, is the boy determined to eat me out of house and home the instant he is brought into the world?’

The midwife leaned towards Kitty. ‘If you’d pick the child up, my lady, and offer him your breast.’

‘Breast?’ Kitty looked round, startled. ‘Offer him my breast?’

‘Why yes, my lady. Of course. How else is the young ’un to feed?’

‘Oh, yes. I see.’ Kitty looked up at Arthur and the doctor apprehensively. ‘Would you mind leaving the room? I would feel more comfortable.’