He was not in, and what was evidently her
telegram lay unopened in the hall. Tremulous with expectation, she ran
up to the nursery. The pathetic sound of some small creature that cannot
tell what is hurting it, or why, met her ears. She went in, disturbed,
yet with the half-triumphant thought: 'Perhaps that's for me!'
Betty, very flushed, was rocking the cradle, and examining the baby's
face with a perplexed frown. Seeing Gyp, she put her hand to her side,
and gasped:
"Oh, be joyful! Oh, my dear! I AM glad. I can't do anything with baby
since the morning. Whenever she wakes up, she cries like that. And till
to-day she's been a little model. Hasn't she! There, there!"
Gyp took up the baby, whose black eyes fixed themselves on her mother in
a momentary contentment; but, at the first movement, she began again her
fretful plaint. Betty went on:
"She's been like that ever since this morning. Mr. Fiorsen's been in
more than once, ma'am, and the fact is, baby don't like it. He stares at
her so. But this morning I thought--well--I thought: 'You're her father.
It's time she was getting used to you.' So I let them be a minute; and
when I came back--I was only just across to the bathroom--he was comin'
out lookin' quite fierce and white, and baby--oh, screamin'! And except
for sleepin', she's hardly stopped cryin' since."
Pressing the baby to her breast, Gyp sat very still, and queer thoughts
went through her mind.
Pages:
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260