And then--when at last Azalea emerged from the tumbled-down ruin of the
little old house, with a baby in her arms, Patty gave a cry of startled
fear, and then clapped her hand over her mouth, lest her dismay be too
evident to those sitting near by.
"Mona!" she whispered, "it's Fleurette!"
"No! I don't believe it! You can't tell,--such a _little_ baby--they all
look alike,--you're imagining, Patty--"
"It is! it _is_! That's where they went when Azalea took Baby off for a
whole day,--and two or three times for an afternoon or a morning! Oh, I
can't _stand_ it!"
Patty buried her face in her hands and refused to look up while Azalea
rode the galloping horse, with the child held fast in one arm.
Mona felt it must be true. To be sure she couldn't really recognise
Fleurette's face, but she was certain that Patty's mother heart could
make no mistake, and it was small wonder that she was overcome at seeing
her child in such scenes.
"Hush, Patty," said Mona, as Patty's sobs began to sound hysterical,
"hush,--this is only a picture, you know,--this isn't really
Fleurette,--she is safe at home--"
"But she must have been here! Azalea _must_ have carried her,
_really_--on that terrific horse! They couldn't have got the pictures
if she hadn't!"
"Well, it's all right, anyway. It didn't hurt the baby--"
"Oh, hush, Mona! you don't know what I'm suffering! I guess if your baby
had been taken off and put through such awful doings, you'd know what I
feel! My baby,--my little flower baby! In that awful crashing, tumbling
down old shanty! Oh, I _can't_ stand it!"
"Let's go out, Patty, there's no reason for us to stay longer.
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