“This is Robin, the young man who saved our baby’s life,” said Jonathan Highcrofft.
“And for which, if we spent our lives doing it, we could never thank you enough,” said Adelaide Highcrofft, her soft, sweet voice a perfect accompaniment to her gentle face.
“The boys helped save him too,” said Robin, determined that they should have all the credit due to them.
Jonathan Highcrofft smiled at him through his tears. “I’ve already reported about his Uncle Piggy, who was such a good nursemaid while you went to work, and his Uncle Duck, and Uncle Mouse, and Uncle Spider, whom you shall soon be meeting, Adelaide. We have no words to express our gratitude to them. But it’s you, Robin. It’s you, son, who was most responsible for saving him from what was almost certain death.”
There it was again—that word “son.” But Robin was nobody’s son. And now he no longer even had a baby brother. He now had no one. Danny was most miraculously going to belong to just the kind of family Robin had wanted for him. And this was not a family who had simply picked him up off the church steps, but was his real family. Only that real family did not include Robin. Suddenly, it was all more than he could bear. He threw his arm over his face to hide the fact that he was crying bitterly.
Immediately, he felt an arm thrown around his shoulders. “What is it?” asked Jonathan Highcrofft. “What’s wrong?”
“D-D-Danny’s not my little brother any more,” sobbed Robin.
“Oh, my dear child!” Adelaide Highcrofft cried. “What are you talking about? Of course he’s still your brother. No blood bond is needed for that. What has made him your brother is caring for him and loving him as much as you have.”
“And that doesn’t even begin to address the fact that you saved his life,” said Jonathan Highcrofft. “What could make him more your brother than that, son?”
Robin then raised his eyes to look into Jonathan Highcrofft’s own. “Oh Mr. Highcrofft, sir, you should not call me that. I’m not your son. I’m no one’s son.”
“Jonathan, you may tell him,” Adelaide Highcrofft said swiftly.
“You’re quite certain?” her husband asked.
“Absolutely,” she replied. “Without any reservations.”
“All right then,” said Jonathan Highcrofft. “Robin, your mother and father are gone. So, now, is your stepfather, such as he was. Before you joined us, I spoke to Adelaide about something, and it seems that she agrees with me. I realize we’ve only just met you, but I believe myself to be a good judge of character. I think you’re a fine young man, and we’d both be proud to have you in our family, to carry the name of Highcrofft, and to be our baby’s true brother in every sense. I don’t think he could have a finer big brother. Is this something you’d like?” Jonathan Highcrofft gave Robin a searching look. “Would that by any chance be a smile?”
“Of course it is, Jonathan!” said Adelaide Highcrofft. “And I believe we have our answer. Now for goodness sake, hand Robin your handkerchief so he can wipe his eyes and won’t be spilling tears all over his baby brother when he comes to sit beside me.”
She held out an arm to welcome to her side a Robin whose tears now could only be called tears of joyful disbelief. For who could have ever thought that his plans to leave Danny on the steps of a church would ever have such a happy ending?
But Robin had no sooner dropped down beside Adelaide Highcrofft and his baby brother, than the doorbell was heard to ring.
“Robin, I must warn you that what is about to take place might be a fairly ugly scene,” Jonathan Highcrofft said. “But I need you here, as you will see.”
“What do you mean by ‘ugly scene,’ Jonathan?” his wife asked quickly. “What could possibly be ugly about Grandfather and your cousin coming here to be told the joyful news of our baby son?”
“There is more to it than that, my dear,” said Jonathan Highcrofft. “When I first brought the baby to you, I wanted to spare you the whole story at that happy moment. You don’t have to stay for it now, if you don’t wish. You can hear it all from me later.”
“Of course I want to stay,” said Adelaide Highcrofft without hesitation. “If this meeting concerns our two sons, of course I want to be here.”
“As you wish, my dear,” said Jonathan Highcrofft as Fletcher ushered two men into the room. “And Fletcher, please close the drawing room doors, won’t you?”
Of the two men who had entered, one was a distinguished elderly gentleman who stood as straight and tall as the younger man beside him. The younger man, though bearing a strong family resemblance to the older man and Jonathan Highcrofft, was heavier set and with piercing dark eyes rather than the gentler blue of the other two. They were of course the eyes of Franklin Highcrofft, and Robin stiffened when he saw their owner.
“Good evening, Grandfather. It was nice of you to come at this hour. You too, Franklin,” said Jonathan Highcrofft.
“Your note hardly gave me any choice, nor probably Grandfather either. Harriet was not too happy about my being dragged out at this hour, I can tell you. What’s this all about, Jonathan?” Franklin Highcrofft snapped.
But then suddenly old Mr. Highcrofft beamed. “Is that a baby in Adelaide’s arms? Why, what a crafty pair you are! Adopting a baby and no one knowing about it.” He quickly strode over to where Adelaide Highcrofft sat beside Robin, holding Danny. “No, no, dear, I won’t wake the baby. I just want to look at it. Is it a boy or girl, Adelaide?” he whispered.
“A boy,” she whispered back.
“Crafty, indeed, Jonathan,” said Franklin Highcrofft. “But an adopted baby certainly doesn’t meet
