"All right," and Azalea's heart beat fast, for she had a splendid scheme.
Into the library she carried Fleurette, singing as she went, and once in the room, she put the baby on a chair and flew for the record rack.
Quickly she found the record of the baby's crying spell and put it in place in the phonograph.
Then, picking up Fleurette, she set the needle going and hurried from the room.
Merritt, hearing the cries, screams and sobs, scowled with anger at the baby's fit of ill temper, but never dreamed that it was not really the child crying at all.
So Azalea had ample chance to escape by a back door from the library, and crossing the dining-room went out on a side porch that faced the Gale place.
Looking carefully to see that Merritt had not followed her, and listening a moment to learn how much longer the record,—of which she knew every familiar sound,—would last, she ran with all the speed of which she was capable over to the Gales'.
Van Reypen was just taking leave, and he, as well as the others present, looked in amazement at the flying figure coming nearer and nearer until Azalea reached the group.
"Take her," she said to Mrs. Gale, as she gave her the baby, "keep her safe—safe!"
And then Azalea went flying back.