Mrs. Harrison gingerly took the baby that wasn't hers, and looked like a martyr as she held her.
But comforted by the warm food, the baby pleasantly cuddled up in Mrs. Harrison's arms and went to sleep.
Mrs. Maynard, greatly puzzled, went to the telephone, but before she touched it there was a furious peal at the front-door bell.
The moment the door was opened, in rushed a pretty, but frantic and very angry, little lady, carrying a child.
"Where's my baby?" she demanded, as she fairly stamped her foot at Mrs. Maynard.
"That's my child!" she went on, turning to Mrs. Harrison. "What are you doing with her?"
"I don't want her!" cried Mrs. Harrison. "But what are you doing with my baby?"
Totty, in the visitor's arms, held out her hands to her mother, and gurgled with glee.
"Ma-ma!" said the other baby, waking up at all this commotion and holding out her hands also.
The exchange was made in a moment, and, still unpacified, Mrs. Harrison and Mrs. Curtis glared at each other.