did you hurry off so and get him, Eudora?” said he.     

       “I thought from what you said that day that you would be disappointed when you found out I had only the Lancaster linen and not a real baby,” said Eudora with her calm, grand air and with no trace of a smile.     

       “Then that means that you say yes, Eudora?”      

       For the first time Eudora gave a startled glance at him. “Didn’t you know?” she gasped.     

       “How should I? You had not said yes really, dear.”      

       “Do you think,” said Eudora Yates, “that I am not too proud to allow you to ask me if my answer were not yes?”      

       “So that is the reason you always ran away from me, years ago, so that I never had a chance to ask you?”      

       “Of course,” said Eudora. “No woman of my family ever allows a declaration which she does not intend to accept. I was always taught that by my mother.”      

       Then a small but insistent cry rent the air. “The baby is awake!” cried Eudora, and ran, or, rather, paced swiftly—Eudora had been taught never to run—and Lawton followed. It was he who finally quieted the child, holding the little thing in his arms.     

       But the baby, before that, cried so long and lustily that all the women in the Glynn house opposite were on the alert, and also some of the friends who were calling there. Abby Simson was one.     

       “Harry Lawton has been there over an hour now,” said Abby, while the wailing continued, “and I know as well as I want to that there will be a wedding.”      

       “I wonder he doesn’t object to that adopted baby,” said Julia Esterbrook.     

       “I know one thing,” said Abby Simson. “It must be a boy baby, it hollers so.”      

  

 Prev. P 21/21