miss billie married-第41章
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to still play Bridget?''
Billy laughed and shook her head。
‘‘No; far from it。 Eliza has come back; and
her cousin from Vermont is coming as second girl
to help her。 But I _could_ cook a dinner for you if
I had to now; sir; and it wouldn't be potato…mush
and cold lamb;'' she bragged shamelessly; as there
sounded Bertram's peculiar ring; and the click of
his key in the lock。
It was the next afternoon that Billy called on
Marie。 From Marie's; Billy went to the Annex;
which was very near Cyril's new house; and there;
in Aunt Hannah's room; she had what she told
Bertram afterwards was a perfectly lovely visit。
Aunt Hannah; too; enjoyed the visit very much;
though yet there was one thing that disturbed
herthe vaguely troubled look in Billy's eyes;
which to…day was more apparent than ever。 Not
until just before Billy went home did something
occur to give Aunt Hannah a possible clue as to
what was the meaning of it。 That something
was a question from Billy。
‘‘Aunt Hannah; why don't I feel like Marie
did? why don't I feel like everybody does in
books and stories? Marie went around with such
a detached; heavenly; absorbed look in her eyes;
before the twins came to her home。 But I don't。
I don't find anything like that in my face; when I
look in the glass。 And I don't feel detached and
absorbed and heavenly。 I'm happy; of course;
but I can't help thinking of the dear; dear times
Bertram and I have together; just we two; and I
can't seem to imagine it at all with a third person
around。''
‘‘Billy! _Third person_; indeed!''
‘‘There! I knew 'twould shock you;'' mourned
Billy。 It shocks me。 I _want_ to feel detached
and heavenly and absorbed。''
‘‘But Billy; dear; think of itcalling your
own baby a third person!''
Billy sighed despairingly。
‘‘Yes; I know。 And I suppose I might as well
own up to the rest of it too。 II'm actually afraid
of babies; Aunt Hannah! Well; I am;'' she
reiterated; in answer to Aunt Hannah's gasp of
disapproval。 ‘‘I'm not used to them at all。 I never
had any little brothers and sisters; and I don't
know how to treat babies。 II'm always afraid
they'll break; or something。 I'm just as afraid
of the twins as I can be。 How Marie can handle
them; and toss them about as she does; I don't
see。''
‘‘Toss them about; indeed!''
‘‘Well; it looks that way to me;'' sighed Billy。
‘‘Anyhow; I know I can never get to handle them
like thatand that's no way to feel! And I'm
ashamed of myself because I _can't_ be detached
and heavenly and absorbed;'' she added; rising
to go。 ‘‘Everybody always is; it seems; but just
me。''
‘‘Fiddlededee; my dear!'' scoffed Aunt Hannah;
patting Billy's downcast face。 ‘‘Wait till a
year from now; and we'll see about that third…
person bugaboo you're worrying about。 _I'm_
not worrying now; so you'd better not!''
CHAPTER XXII
A DOT AND A DIMPLE
On the day Cyril Henshaw's twins were six
months old; a momentous occurrence marked the
date with a flaming red letter of remembrance;
and it all began with a baby's smile。
Cyril; in quest of his wife at about ten o'clock
that morning; and not finding her; pursued his
search even to the nurserya room he very
seldom entered。 Cyril did not like to go into the
nursery。 He felt ill at ease; and as if he were
away from homeand Cyril was known to abhor
being away from home since he was married。
Now that Marie had taken over the reins of
government again; he had been obliged to see very
little of those strange women and babies。 Not
but that he liked the babies; of course。 They were
his sons; and he was proud of them。 They should
have every advantage that college; special training;
and travel could give them。 He quite
anticipated what they would be to himwhen
they really knew anything。 But; of course; _now_;
when they could do nothing but cry and wave
their absurd little fists; and wobble their heads
in so fearsome a manner; as if they simply did
not know the meaning of the word backbone
and; for that matter; of course they didn't
why; he could not be expected to be anything
but relieved when he had his den to himself again;
with a reasonable chance of finding his manuscript
as he had left it; and not cut up into a ridiculous
string of paper dolls holding hands; as he had
once found it; after a visit from a woman with a
small girl。
Since Marie had been at the helm; however;
he had not been troubled in such a way。 He had;
indeed; known almost his old customary peace
and freedom from interruption; with only an
occasional flitting across his path of the strange
women and babiesthough he had realized; of
course; that they were in the house; especially in
the nursery。 For that reason; therefore; he always
avoided the nursery when possible。 But to…day
he wanted his wife; and his wife was not to be
found anywhere else in the house。 So; reluctantly;
he turned his steps toward the nursery; and; with
a frown; knocked and pushed open the door。
‘‘Is Mrs。 Henshaw here?'' he demanded; not
over gently。
Absolute silence greeted his question。 The man
saw then that there was no one in the room save
a baby sitting on a mat in the middle of the floor;
barricaded on all sides with pillows。
With a deeper frown the man turned to go; when
a gleeful ‘‘Ahgoo!'' halted his steps midway。
He wheeled sharply。
‘‘Ereh?'' he queried; uncertainly eyeing
his small son on the floor。
‘‘Ahgoo!'' observed the infant (who had
been very lonesome); with greater emphasis; and
this time he sent into his father's eyes the most
bewitching of smiles。
‘‘Well; by George!'' murmured the man;
weakly; a dawning amazement driving the frown
from his face。
‘‘Spggghoowah!'' gurgled the boy; holding
out two tiny fists。
A slow smile came to the man's face。
‘‘Well; I'llbedarned;'' he muttered half…
shamefacedly; wholly delightedly。 ‘‘If the rascal
doesn't act as if heknew me!''
‘‘Ahgoospggghh!'' grinned the infant;
toothlessly; but entrancingly。
With almost a stealthy touch Cyril closed the
door back of him; and advanced a little dubiously
toward his son。 His countenance carried a mixture
of guilt; curiosity; and dogged determination
so ludicrous that it was a pity none but baby eyes
could see it。 As if to meet more nearly on a level
this baffling new acquaintance; Cyril got to his
kneessomewhat stiffly; it must be confessed
and faced his son。
‘‘Gooeeeoooyah!'' crowed the baby
now; thrashing legs and arms about in a transport
of joy at the acquisition of this new playmate。
‘‘Well; well; young man; youyou don't say
so!'' stammered the growingly…proud father;
thrusting a plainly timid and unaccustomed finger
toward his offspring。 ‘‘So you do know me;
eh? Well; who am I?''
‘‘Dada!'' gurgled the boy; triumphantly
clutching the outstretched finger; and holding on
with a tenacity that brought a gleeful chuckle to
the lips of the man。
‘‘Jove! but aren't you the strong little beggar;
though! Needn't tell me you don't know a good
thing when you see it! So I'm ‘da…da;' am I?''
he went on; unhesitatingly accepting as the pure
gold of knowledge the shameless imitation vocabulary
his son was foisting upon him。 ‘‘Well; I
expect I am; and''
‘‘Oh; Cyril!'' The door had opened; and
Marie was in the room。 If she gave a start of
surprise at her husband's unaccustomed attitude;
she quickly controlled herself。 ‘‘Julia said you
wanted me。 I must have been going down the
back stairs when you came up the front; and''
‘‘Please; Mrs。 Henshaw; is it Dot you have in
here; or Dimple?'' asked a new voice; as the second
nurse entered by another door。
Before Mrs。 Henshaw could answer; Cyril; who
had got to his feet; turned sharply。
‘‘Is it_w