"Oh, I'll see to the pies," responded Miss Ada escaping to the kitchen.
Molly was already on her way to Mrs. Chris Fisher's. Polly vainly tried to attract the baby's attention by every means within her power. Mary stood by suggesting alternately mustard poultices and ginger tea, which suggestions Luella contemptuously put aside.
"I don't see what's the matter with her unless it is colic," she remarked. "She may be subject to it; I ain't heard say. I'll ask Ora next time I go out. When was she fed last?"
"Why, I don't know." The two little girls looked at each other. "Did you give her the bottle, Mary?" asked Polly.
"No," was the reply.
"Maybe Molly did. I reckon it was Molly; she was playing she was mother this morning, you know." Luella said nothing but continued the rocking movement of her knees till Molly came in, breathless, with the bunch of dried catnip.
"I suppose she's been fed regular," said Luella addressing Molly, "and you've took care to give her the milk warm."
"Oh, dear!" Molly stood still. "I forgot she had to be fed oftener than we are, and oh, Luella, I am afraid the last milk she took wasn't real warm."
"Then no wonder she's yellin' like mad," said Luella disgustedly. "You're a nice set to take care of a young un. Here, some of you hold her whilst I get her milk and give it to her right. If she ain't got colic from cold milk she's starvin'."
Molly meekly took charge of the screaming child who did not cease its crying till Luella, returning with the bottle of milk, thrust the rubber nipple into its mouth; then suddenly all was quiet. "Just what I thought; half starved," said Luella. "It looks as if I'd got to see to the youngster, if she stays here. Miss Ada's not much better than the rest of you. What does she know about babies? I guess Ellis can beat the best of you, after all, when it comes to 'tendin' babies."