"The wash, dear," said Zoie to Alfred; "Jimmy had to go after the
wash," and then with a look which Maggie could not mistake for an
invitation to stop longer, Zoie called to her haughtily, "You
needn't wait, Maggie; we understand."
"Sure, an' it's more 'an I do," answered Maggie, and shaking her
head sadly, she slipped from the room.
But Alfred could not immediately dismiss from his mind the
picture of Maggie's inhuman parent.
"Just fancy," he said, turning his head to one side meditatively,
"fancy any man not liking to be the father of twins," and with
that he again bent over the cradle and surveyed its contents.
"Think, Jimmy," he said, when he had managed to get the three
youngsters in his arms, "just think of the way THAT father feels,
and then think of the way _I_ feel."
"And then think of the way _I_ feel," grumbled Jimmy.
"You!" exclaimed Alfred; "what have you to feel about?"
Before Jimmy could answer, the air was rent by a piercing scream
and a crash of glass from the direction of the inner rooms.
"What's that?" whispered Aggie, with an anxious glance toward
Zoie.
"Sounded like breaking glass," said Alfred.
"Burglars!" exclaimed Zoie, for want of anything better to
suggest.
"Burglars?" repeated Alfred with a superior air; "nonsense!
Nonsense! Here," he said, turning to Jimmy, "you hold the boys
and I'll go see----" and before Jimmy was aware of the honour
about to be thrust upon him, he felt three red, spineless
morsels, wriggling about in his arms.
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