“Oh, you darling!”
“It’s my turn, Patsy! Don’t be selfish. Let me kiss her again.”
“That’s enough, Beth. Here—give me my niece!”
“She’s mine, too.”
“Give me that baby! There; you’ve made her cry.”
“I haven’t; she’s laughing because I kissed her wee nose.”
“Isn’t she a dear, though?”
“Now, girls,” suggested Louise, “suppose we give Uncle John and the
major a peep at her.”
Reluctantly the bundle was abandoned to its mother, who carried it to
where Mr. Merrick was nervously standing. “Yes, yes,” he said, touching
one cheek gently with the tip of his finger. “It—it’s a fine child,
Louise; really a—a—creditable child. But—eh—isn’t it rather—soft?”
“Of course, Uncle John. All babies are soft. Aren’t you going to kiss
little Jane?”
“It—won’t—hurt it?”
“Not a bit. Haven’t Beth and Patsy nearly kissed its skin off?”
“Babies,” asserted Major Doyle, stiffly, “were made to be kissed.
Anyhow, that’s the penalty they pay for being born helpless.” And with
this he kissed little Jane on both cheeks with evident satisfaction.
This bravado encouraged Uncle John to do likewise, but after the
operation he looked sheepish and awkward, as if he felt that he had
taken an unfair advantage of the wee lady.
“She seems very red, Louise,” he remarked, to cover his embarrassment.
“Oh, no, Uncle! Everyone says she’s the whitest baby of her age they
ever saw. She’s only five months old, remember.”
“Dear me; how very young.”
“But she’s getting older every day,” said Arthur, coming in from the
garage. “What do you folks think of her, anyhow?”
The rhapsodies were fairly bewildering, yet very pleasant to the young
father and mother. While they continued, Mildred Travers quietly took
the child from Louise and tenderly bent over it. Only the major noted
the little scene that ensued.
The eyes of the dark-skinned Mexican girl flashed sudden fire. She
pulled Mildred’s sleeve and then fell back discomfited as the cold,
fathomless eyes of the trained nurse met her own. For an instant the
girl stood irresolute; then with a quick, unexpected motion she tore the
infant from Mildred’s arms and rushed into the house with it.
Arthur, noticing this last action, laughed lightly. The major frowned.
Mildred folded her arms and stood in the background unmoved and
unobtrusive. Louise was chatting volubly with her two cousins.
“Was that the same Mexican girl who fed the baby chile con carne?”
inquired Uncle John anxiously.
“Mercy, no!” cried Arthur. “What ever put such an idea into your head?”
“I believe the major suggested it,” replied the little man. “Anyhow, it
was something hot, so Louise wrote.”
“Oh, yes; when Toodlums had the colic. It was some queer Mexican remedy,
but I’m confident it saved the child’s life. The girl is a treasure.”
Uncle John coughed and glanced uneasily at Miss Travers, who pretended
not to have overheard this conversation. But the major was highly amused
and decided it was a good joke on Mr. Merrick. It was so good a joke
that it might serve as a basis for many cutting remarks in future
discussions. His brother-in-law was so seldom guilty of an error in
judgment that Major Doyle, who loved to oppose him because he was so
fond of him, hailed Uncle John’s present predicament with pure joy.
Louise created a welcome diversion by ushering them all into the house
and through the stately rooms to the open court, where a luncheon table
was set beneath the shade of the palms.
Here was the baby again, with the Mexican girl, Inez, hugging it
defiantly to her bosom as she sat upon a stone bench.
Between the infant, the excitement of arrival and admiration for the
Weldon establishment, so far surpassing their most ardent anticipations,
Beth and Patsy had little desire for food. Uncle John and the major,
however, did ample justice to an excellent repast, which was served by
two more Mexican maids.
“Do you employ only Mexicans for servants?” inquired Uncle John, when
finally the men were left alone to smoke while the girls, under Louise’s
guidance, explored the house.
“Only Mexicans, except for the Chinese cook,” replied Arthur. “It is
impossible to get American help and the Japs I won’t have. Some of the
ranch hands have been on the place for years, but the house servants I
hired after I come here.”
“A lazy lot, eh?” suggested the major.
“Quite right, sir. But I find them faithful and easy to manage. You will
notice that I keep two or three times as many house servants as a
similar establishment would require in the east; but they are content
with much smaller wages. It’s the same way on the ranch. Yet without the
Mexicans the help problem would be a serious one out here.”
“Does the ranch pay?” asked Mr. Merrick.
“I haven’t been here long enough to find out,” answered Arthur, with a
smile. “So far, I’ve done all the paying. We shall harvest a big orange
crop next month, and in time the olives will mature; but I’ve an idea
the expenses will eat up the receipts, by the end of the year.”
“No money in a California ranch, eh?”
“Why, some of my neighbors are making fortunes, I hear; but they are
experienced ranchers. On the other hand, my next neighbor at the north
is nearly bankrupt, because he’s a greenhorn from the east. Some time,
when I’ve learned the game, I hope to make this place something more
than a plaything.”
“You’ll stay here, then?” asked the major, with astonishment. “It’s the
most delightful country on earth, for a residence. You’ll admit that,
sir, when you know it better.”
Meantime the baggage wagon arrived and Patsy and Beth, having picked out
their rooms, began to unpack and “settle” in their new quarters.