"I do forbid it, but she comes in here when I don't know it,—or she picks baby out of her carriage, Winnie says, and tosses her clear up and catches her again."
"I'll speak to her about it; why, she'll drop the child some day! She must not do it!"
"I wish you would speak to her," Patty sighed. "Azalea is really a trial. I don't know what to do with her. Sometimes she is so sweet and docile that I think I'm teaching her to be a civilised person, and then she flies off at a tangent and she's as unruly and intractable as she was at first."
"How long has she been here now?"
"Nearly a month. I've tried and Betty has tried,—and, yes, Azalea has tried herself,—but we can't seem to—"
"Camouflage her!"
"That's just it! I want her to look like the background she's against here,—and she doesn't!"
"I should say not! Last night at dinner she threw herself back in her chair and yawned openly—"
"Openly! It was all of that! I saw her,—across the table through the flowers. And, Billee,—she's queer—that's what she is,—queer!"
"Have you noticed that, too? Yes, she is queer,—here take this
Little Flower. She's nearly asleep."