"It's so little!" she cried in a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss it?"
"If you'll look away—I'm afraid to when you're looking."
"I won't look," she laughed. "You look, Elly Precious!"
The bath-times were the pleasantest to Miss Theodosia. Getting things together—little tub and powders and soaps and the fresh little clothes—was a beautiful beginning, and after that—after that, the deluge! The practice she had had washing that little ancient baby, in her former incarnation, stood Miss Theodosia in good stead! As she had bathed and rubbed and powdered her first baby eons ago, she bathed and rubbed and powdered this second one now. For she called Elly Precious her baby. That was their beautiful play.
"We'll keep it a secret, won't we?—just between you and me, dear! We won't even tell Evangeline that you're my darlin' dear," she crooned over this second baby. Elly Precious played the game; he was a little sport, was Elly Precious.
The morning after the little new-nightgown episode, the bath progressed thrillingly. That was, it seemed, the morning set by Elly Precious to give this new mother a glorious surprise. It could not be said that he had it up his little sleeve, being innocent of any manner of garment, but he had it prepared.
Miss Theodosia dried the tiny body and set it far forward on her knees, facing her, and began as usual:
"Now, baby, watch—watch hard! Make exactly the same noise I do." She put her lips in position for clear enunciation.
"Mam—m-ma."
Customarily, Elly Precious sat and chuckled gleefully and nakedly. This was a favorite play. But, oh, to-day—