Miss Madigan's high color had faded the next morning. Accustomed to unbroken sleep, she had not rested half an hour the whole night. It seemed that Fauntleroy Forrest was in the habit of lying across his bed instead of along it, and he had so terrorized the poor lady that she had not dared to move him, when he did fall asleep toward morning and she felt his toes digging into her ribs, lest he wake. "Hurry with your breakfast, Sissy," she said faintly, sipping her tea, "so that you can take him home before school." "Don't yant to go home!" whimpered the baby, whom the morning light and the presence of many small Madigans had reassured. "He could stay and play with Frank, couldn't he, Aunt Anne?" suggested Sissy, sweetly. Miss Madigan's look spoke volumes. "Yes, yes," cried Fauntleroy. "Don't yant to go home!" His papa would be lonesome, Miss Madigan told him, archly; and his mama would be lonesome, and Bombey-- "Don't yant to go home!" wept the baby. "There! There!... Take him, Frank, into my room and amuse him--anything, only don't let him cry!" exclaimed Miss Madigan. "I'm going into Kate's room to lie down. I'm exhausted and--" "Did Fauntleroy disturb you, Aunt Anne?" asked Kate, sympathetically. But Miss Madigan hurried away. She was so unnerved she feared that she might weep. But, after nearly half an hour's trying, she found she was too tired to sleep, after all, and rising wearily, she went back to her room for the book she had been reading. The sight that met her eyes, as she opened the door, completed her undoing. There was Fauntleroy, with an uncomprehending grin on his cherubic face, pinching each separate leaf of her cherished sensitive-plant. Evidently the borrowed baby did not exactly understand the desperately funny quality of the act, but he knew it must be the funniest thing in the world, for the Madigans were writhing grotesquely in the unbounded merriment it caused. With a cry, Miss Madigan flew forward and sharply slapped the destructive baby hands. "I yant to go home!" screamed Fauntleroy. "Yes; and I want you to go, too," Miss Madigan declared, incensed. "Get his things, Sissy, this minute." "But I want him to play wif," whimpered Frank. She was not so slow but that she could learn the lesson Fauntleroy's success taught. Miss Madigan looked at her a moment. "Oh, you do!" she ejaculated sarcastically. "You haven't sisters enough--you want more noise and confusion in this house!"