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"Yet quite big enough, although it holds so much." "One would hardly have said, four years ago, that anything smaller than the biggest musical auditorium in the city would have been big enough to hold Azalea's voice," he mused. "If you could have heard her sing her lullaby to those babies," I replied, as we walked slowly on, "you would have said her voice would be wasted on a concert audience."
I was warned to keep out of it, but I didn't know what wretches I would find in it! Go! Go at once! and never let me see your face again!" It was at this moment that the Gale motor party returned. Patty and Bill, hearing Azalea's loud tones, rushed to the library and found her there with Merritt. "Where's Baby?" Patty cried, starting for the stairs. "She's safe, Patty," Azalea said, stopping her.
But you sing, or whistle or something, so's I'll know you're right there." "All right," and Azalea's heart beat fast, for she had a splendid scheme. Into the library she carried Fleurette, singing as she went, and once in the room, she put the baby on a chair and flew for the record rack. Quickly she found the record of the baby's crying spell and put it in place in the phonograph.
"That's so," and Azalea's manner suddenly changed. "Patty is a dear, and I love her. And that baby! Oh!" "How crazy you are over that child," Elise exclaimed. "She is a dear baby, but I don't see why you idolise her so." "Oh, I love babies, and Fleurette is so sweet and soft and cuddly! I love to have her all to myself, but Patty won't let me." "I don't wonder!
I said to myself, as I went about the "upstairs work" work that the Skeptic, with all his good will, could not do, not being allowed to cross certain thresholds that we should sorely miss Azalea's music when she should go away next week. The Gay Lady and I managed luncheon with very little exertion, we had so much assistance.
"What's the matter, dear?" she called, through the closed door, as there was no response to her knock. "Nothing; let me alone!" came Azalea's impatient voice. "Are you ill? Don't you feel well?" "Let me alone. I'm all right." The tone was ungracious, and there was no mistaking the import of her speech, so Patty went away. At dinner time Azalea appeared.
She took no stock in the kidnapping theory, for Winnie had left the child with Azalea, who would have fought off a horde of marauders before she let them carry off the little one. No, whatever had happened was doubtless Azalea's doing. But Elise's notion of an accident to Fleurette might come somewhere near the truth. "Of course that's it," Elise went on, excitedly.
His audacity took my breath away so completely that I could make no rejoinder, but the Gay Lady came to the rescue. I don't know whether she had seen Azalea's face, but I had. "I have a surprise for to-night," said she, picking up a trayful of china, "and I don't intend anybody shall interfere with it. Nobody is even to mention dinner in my presence." The Skeptic took the tray away from her.
"No; but she knows lots of our friends. Somebody is probably asking her to go somewhere." None of them tried to listen, but the telephone was in the next room and Azalea's voice had a peculiar carrying quality that made it difficult not to overhear snatches of her conversation. "No," she exclaimed, positively, "I can't do it! I really can't! I'm sorry it didn't go right, but I can't do it again!
"I know it, and if she only brings her back this time in safety, I'll never let her see Fleurette alone again!" All that afternoon Patty suffered agonies of suspense. Now she would cry uncontrollably, and again, she would sit, still and dry-eyed, waiting for some sound of Azalea's arrival.
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