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Poor Mr. Carter said when Billy cut his teeth that a neighbour's baby can be worse than your own. He didn't like children, and the baby's crying disturbed him, so many a night I walked Billy out in the garden until daylight, while Mr. Carter and Dr. John both slept. Always his little, warm, wilty body has comforted me for the emptiness of not having a little one of my own. And he's very congenial, too, for he's slim and flowery, pink and dimply, and as mannish as his father, in funny little flashes. Patricia drew in her breath with a sharp little sigh of satisfied anticipation, but had no more than a murmur for Elinor's rapturous exclamations, so busy was she with the brilliant scene before her. "That gives me the creeps," she remonstrated. "I don't like it. It sounds like funerals and ghosts——".
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It was a brisk, sunny day, and they were waiting for Elinor on the steps of the Academy. Judith was looking very happy, and Patricia, while she had a perturbed air, was no less triumphant in her manner. At this moment, as if summoned by his remark, Dido appeared round the bend of the path. She looked straight before her, turning neither to right nor left, and passed the pair like one in a sleeping fit. The negress seemed to be under the influence of some strange excitement, and ran stumbling down to the gate. "Mr. Sarby." "Think he'll do for that future helpmeet you're expecting to turn up any old day, Judy?" Patricia mischievously whispered back..
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