Part 16 (2/2)

”Yes, honey, I think she looks very well, but I don't think you do.”

”Me! Nonsense! I am as well as can be, just a little tired from the trip.”

”Yes, I know. Of course that was fatiguing, but I think you are thinner than you have any right to be. I am afraid you have been doing too much.”

”Oh, not at all. I have had simply nothing to do but take care of the baby, and that is just play, real play.”

”Humph, no doubt! But maybe you have played too hard and that is what has tired you. I thought you were going to bring Kizzie along to nurse.”

”Oh, that was your and Mother's plan! I never had any idea of doing it.

'Deed and um's muvver is going to take care of 'ittle bits a baby herself,” and Molly reached out and snuggled the willing Mildred down in the sleepy-hollow chair. Daddy's knee was not the most comfortable spot in the world, and a back that has only been in the world about four months cannot stand for much dandling.

”But, Molly darling, Kizzie is a good girl and it would help you ever so much to have her. You know we can well afford it now, so don't let the financial side of it worry you.”

”But, Edwin, I can't give up taking care of the baby. I just love to do it.”

”All right, my dear, but please don't wear yourself out.”

The fact was that the long strain of waiting for news from Kent had told on Molly, and she was looking quite wan and tired. It was not just the trip from Kentucky, which, of course, was no easy matter. Twenty-four hours on the train with an infant that needed much attention and got much more than it really needed was no joke, but the long hours and days of waiting and uncertainty had taken Molly's strength. She did feel tired and had no appet.i.te, but she felt sure a night's rest would restore her. She rather attributed her lack of appet.i.te to the poor food that the new Irish maid, whom Edwin had installed in her absence, was serving.

”I'll take hold of her to-morrow and see what can be done,” she said rather wearily to herself. ”I wish Mother could train her for me. I should much rather do the cooking myself than try to train some one who is as hopelessly green as this girl.”

That night little Mildred decided was a good time to a.s.sert herself.

The trip had not tired her at all; on the contrary, it had spurred her on to a state of hilarity, which was very amusing at first but as the night wore on, ceased to be funny. She had come to the delightful knowledge of the fact that she had feet and that each foot had five toes. The cover did not stay on these little pigs one moment. Every time Molly would settle her tired bones and begin to doze, there would be a crow from Mildred, a gurgle, and straight in the air would go the bed clothes, tucked in for the millionth time by the patient young mother. Then the pink tootsies would leap into sight and soon find their way to a determined little mouth.

”Darling, you must go to sleepsumby!” Molly would remonstrate. ”And you will catch your death if you don't keep covered up!”

But the four months' old baby had been too busy in her short life learning other things to bother her head about a mere language. The business of the night was feet and feet alone. There was too much to do about those wonderful little feet for her to think of sleep. Finally Molly gave up. She closed the windows, as too much fresh air on bare feet and legs might not be best and already the little limbs were icy cold. Then she kindled a fire in the grate, the furnace not yet having been started, and gave herself up to a night of sleeplessness. Early in the action, Edwin had been banished to the guest chamber, as he must get sleep no matter what happened, for he had a busy day ahead of him.

Toward morning little Mildred mastered her pedagogy, as her father had called it, and then she dropped off into a deep and peaceful sleep. The weary Molly slept, too.

Before he went to his lectures, Edwin crept into the room to look at his sleeping treasures. The chubby baby still had a toe clasped in her hand but from very weariness had fallen over on her side and was covered up all but the pink foot, which was a.s.serting itself in the remarkable position that only the young can take. Molly looked very pale and tired but was sleeping peacefully. Edwin smiled at them. He had given the green maid from the Emerald Isle strict orders not to awaken them. He devoutly hoped that Molly would not know what a very mean breakfast he had endeavored to choke down; burnt bacon and underdone biscuit washed down with very weak coffee and flanked by eggs that had been cooked too long and not long enough, thereby undergoing that process that the chemist tells us is of all things the most indigestible: half hard and half soft. The burnt bacon had been cold and the underdone biscuit still cooking, seemingly, when the poor young husband and father had tried to nourish himself on them.

He had rather hoped when Molly once got back to Wellington that his food would be better; no doubt it would as soon as she, poor girl, could get rested up. He was thankful, indeed, now that she was asleep and tiptoed out of the room and house without making a sound.

She slept until late in the morning and then the business of the day began, getting little Mildred fed and washed and dressed and fed again and then to sleep. The good-natured, if wholly incapable, Katy hung around and waited on the pretty young mistress. Katy had never been out in service in the ”schtates,” but had come from New York in answer to an advertis.e.m.e.nt in a newspaper inserted by the despairing professor when he had come back to Wellington alone while his wife waited in Kentucky for news of her brother. He had had kindly visions of getting a good Irish cook and having the housekeeping all running beautifully before Molly's return.

Immigrant Katy proved rosy and willing but with no more conception of how to cook than she had how to clean. She was great on ”scroobing,”

but walls and furniture and carpets were not supposed to be scrubbed.

The kitchen floor and pantry shelves were alike beautiful after her administrations, but gold dust and a stiff brush had not improved the appearance of the piano legs. Edwin had come home in the nick of time to stop her before she vented her energies on Molly's own Persian rug, the pride of her heart because of the wonderful blue in it.

”What time is it, Katy?” asked Molly after the baby was absolutely finished and tucked in her carriage to stay on the porch.

”'Tis twilve of the clock, Miss, and I haven't so much as turned a hand below schtairs.”

”Oh, it can't be that late! Lunch at one! What are we to have?”

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