Apparently there was nothing wrong, but the
golden head cuddled down on Patty's shoulder and the baby slept on.
"She's tired," vouchsafed Azalea, "but she's all right."
"Where have you been?" asked Farnsworth sternly, as he came out of the
front door.
"Just for a walk," said Azalea, trying to speak pertly, but quailing
before the accusing blue eyes fixed upon her.
Patty said no word to the girl, but holding Fleurette close, went at
once to the nursery with her.
"She's all right, Winnie, isn't she?" the mother asked, anxiously.
"Yes, ma'am,--I think so,--but she's a little too droopy for mere
sleepiness."
"Droopy! what do you mean?"
"It may be nothing,--Mrs. Farnsworth,--it may be only that she's tired
out and very sleepy,--but she acts a mite as if she'd been--"
"Been what? Speak out, Winnie! What do you mean?"
"Well,--she acts to me like a baby that's had something soothing--some
drops, you know."
"Something to make her sleep?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh, nonsense! Miss Thorpe couldn't give her anything like that! And why
would she? Don't you make any mistake, Winnie, Miss Thorpe adores this
baby!"
"I know it, she does, Mrs. Farnsworth, but all the same,--look at those
eyes, now."
Patty looked, but it seemed to her that the blue eyes drooped from
natural weariness, and assuring herself that no bones were broken or
out of place, she drew a long sigh of relief and told Winnie to put
Fleurette to bed as usual.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101