Mona felt it must be true. To be sure she couldn't really recognise Fleurette's face, but she was certain that Patty's mother heart could make no mistake, and it was small wonder that she was overcome at seeing her child in such scenes.
"Hush, Patty," said Mona, as Patty's sobs began to sound hysterical, "hush,—this is only a picture, you know,—this isn't really Fleurette,—she is safe at home—"
"But she must have been here! Azalea must have carried her, really—on that terrific horse! They couldn't have got the pictures if she hadn't!"
"Well, it's all right, anyway. It didn't hurt the baby—"
"Oh, hush, Mona! you don't know what I'm suffering! I guess if your baby had been taken off and put through such awful doings, you'd know what I feel! My baby,—my little flower baby! In that awful crashing, tumbling down old shanty! Oh, I can't stand it!"
"Let's go out, Patty, there's no reason for us to stay longer."
"Yes, let's," and gathering up her wraps, Patty rose to go.
They made their way out of the dark, crowded place, and finding the motor-car, they went straight home.
Once there, Patty flew to the nursery, and fairly snatching the baby from Nurse Winnie's arms, she held it close, and crooned loving little broken songs.
"You're all right," Mona said, laughing at her. "You've got your baby, safe and sound,—now just sit down there and enjoy her for a while."