“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just playing. I’m so happy, I want to squeeze her in my arms all the time. Just think, Mary, they won’t let me nurse her, yet--a whole day now! Can that be right?” “Nature will take care of that,” I said. “Yes, but how can you be sure what Nature means? Maybe it’s what the child is crying about, and it’s the crying that makes its eyes red.” I felt a sudden spasm grip my heart. “No, dear, no,” I said, hastily. “You must let Dr. Perrin attend to these things, for I’ve just had to interfere with his arrangements, and he’ll be getting cross pretty soon.” “Oh,” she cried with laughter in her eyes, “you’ve had a scene with him? I knew you would! He’s so quaint and old-fashioned!” “Yes,” I said, “and he talks exactly like your aunt.” “Oh! You’ve met her too! I’m missing all the fun!” I had a sudden inspiration--one that I was proud of. “My dear girl,” I said, “maybe _you_ call it fun!” And I looked really agitated. “Why, what’s the matter?” she cried. “What could you expect?” I asked. “I fear, my dear Sylvia, I’ve shocked your aunt beyond all hope.” “What have you done?” “I’ve talked about things I’d no business to--I’ve bossed the learned doctor--and I’m sure Aunt Varina has guessed I’m not a lady.” “Oh, tell me about it!” cried Sylvia, full of delight. But I could not keep up the game any longer. “Not now, dear,” I said. “It’s a long story, and I really am exhausted. I must go and get some rest.” I rose, and she caught my hand, whispering: “I shall be happy, Mary! I shall be really happy now!” And then I turned and fled, and when I was out of sight of the doorway, I literally ran. At the other end of the veranda I sank down upon the steps, and wept softly to myself. 17. The launch arrived, bringing the nitrate of silver. A solution was dropped into the baby’s eyes, and then we could do nothing but wait. I might have lain down and really tried to rest; but the maid came again, with the announcement that Sylvia was asking for her aunt. Excuses would have tended to excite her suspicions; so poor Mrs. Tuis had to take her turn at facing the ordeal, and I had to drill and coach her for it. I had a vision of the poor lady going in to her niece, and suddenly collapsing. Then there would begin a cross-examination, and Sylvia would worm out the truth, and we might have a case of puerperal fever on our hands. This I explained afresh to Mrs. Tuis, having taken her into her own room and closed the door for that purpose. She clutched me with her shaking hands and whispered, “Oh, Mrs. Abbott, you will _never_ let Sylvia find out what caused this trouble?” I drew on my reserve supply of patience, and answered, “What I shall let her find out in the end, I don’t know. We shall be guided by circumstances, and this is no time to discuss the matter. The point is now to make sure that you can go in and stay with her, and not let her get an idea there’s anything wrong.”