Caroline shared these feelings, but
though she turned red, she spoke sturdily.
"I guess Delia feels bad," she suggested shyly, "when she thinks
about--about what happened, you know. She don't cry usu'lly."
The Princess smiled again, this time directly at Caroline, who
fairly blinked in the radiance. With her long brown eyes still
holding Caroline's round ones, she patted Delia's shoulder kindly,
and both the children saw her chin tremble.
The General, smothered in that sudden hug, whimpered a little and
kicked out wildly with his fat white-stockinged legs. Seen from the
rear he had the appearance of a neat, if excited, package,
unaccountably frilled about with embroidered flannel. Delia
straightened herself, dabbed apologetically at her eyes, and
coughed.
"It's bottle-time," she announced in horror-stricken tones,
consulting a large nickel watch hanging from her belt, under the
apron. "It's down in the carriage. Could I have a little boiling
water to heat it, if you please?"
"Assuredly," said the Princess. "Ellis, will you get the--the bottle
from the baby's carriage and some boiling water, please. Do you mix
it here?"
"Mix--the food is all prepared, Madam." Delia spoke with repressed
scorn. "I only want to heat it for him.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57