"Wait and see what the morrow may bring forth."
The morrow brought forth Mac, rested, refreshed, ready for mischief.
Before breakfast was on the table, he had had an unfriendly interview
with Patrick, had come into collision with Melchisedek, and Mrs.
McAlister met him hurriedly retiring from the kitchen with both hands
full of fried potatoes. The next that was seen of him, he was playing
horse on the front lawn, and Allyn was the horse. Even in his brief
survey of the family, the night before, Mac had come to a decision upon
two points. He did not like his Aunt Phebe; he did like his Uncle Allyn.
And Allyn, unaccustomed to children though he was, promptly became the
slave of his imperious young nephew.
"Oh, Hope, it is good to have you here," Theodora said, with a
tempestuous embrace, when Mrs. Holden appeared at the door of the
writing-room, that morning.
"Then I am not in the way?"
"Not a bit. I'm not writing, to-day; I can't settle myself, when I know
you are within reach."
"Perhaps I'd better go back to Helena," Hope suggested.
"No; I shall calm down in time; but I never get used to having you so far
away. It never seems quite right, when the rest of us are all here
together."
"I am a little terrified at the prospect of the coming week," Hope
said, as she sat down on the couch and looked across the lawn to where
Mac was playing.
"What now?"
"Babe is to have her fresh-air child."
"Hope! You don't mean it?"
"Yes, she has coaxed papa into giving his consent. Is it a new
idea to you?"
Theodora dropped her duster, and sat down beside her sister.
"It's new to us all," she said despairingly. "We never heard of it till
last night. What will that girl do next? She detests children, and she
has about as much idea of discipline as she has about--raising poultry.
It is Isabel St. John's doing, I know. She is Babe's best-beloved
friend; and where one leads, the other will follow."
"Babe seems to be in earnest about it," Hope said charitably.
"She's in earnest about everything--by fits and starts. It only doesn't
last. She seems to be losing something of her medical fervor, and
probably this is taking its place. I suppose she has met somebody who
slums for a living, and the idea enchants her. I used to have aspirations
that way, myself; but I am coming to the conclusion that for me charity
begins at home, and that it counts for more to make Billy comfortable
than to make his life a burden with my hobbies."
"Blunt as ever, Teddy?" Hope's laugh had no sting.
"Yes. I haven't reformed yet. Things 'rile' me, just as they used to,
things and people. I'm a good hater, Hope." There was a suspicious
glitter in her eyes; but it vanished, as Hope's hand touched her own.
"And a good lover, too, dear. I wasn't criticising, for I think you are
in the right of it. But Babe really seems rather practical. She only
wants the child for a week, and she agrees to take all the care of it
and give it its meals away from the table."
"Yes; but what will she do with it?" Theodora's tone showed her
perplexity. "There's no telling what may happen in the course of a week.
She will test all the theories of all the cranks on the one poor baby,
one theory a day, and by the end of the week, there won't be any baby
left to send home again."
"My chief worry is for Mac," Hope said resignedly.
"Oh, I don't think the child will hurt him," Theodora reassured her.
"They won't dare send a very bad one."
"No; but it may work the other way about. I am a good deal more worried
in regard to Mac's effect on the child, and--"
"Mam-ma!"
"No, Mac. I told you that you mustn't come here. This is Aunt Teddy's
house, and people don't come here, unless she invites them."
The door swung open a little way, and a chubby face appeared in
the crack.
"Ven please 'vite me now, Aunt Teddy."
"You may come in, Mac."
Mac came in, wriggled his fat little body into the narrow space between
his mother and his aunt, and gave a sigh of relief.
"Vere," he said gravely; "we're all fixed nice, Aunt Teddy, just ve way
my mamma does when she's going to give me somefing good to eat."