"Here we are!" cried a voice, which Azalea tried hard to make casual, but which showed in its quality a trace of apprehension.
"Oh!" Patty cried, and without another word flew down the steps, and fairly grabbed her baby.
The child was asleep, but Patty lifted her from the pillows and gazed into the little face. Apparently there was nothing wrong, but the golden head cuddled down on Patty's shoulder and the baby slept on.
"She's tired," vouchsafed Azalea, "but she's all right."
"Where have you been?" asked Farnsworth sternly, as he came out of the front door.
"Just for a walk," said Azalea, trying to speak pertly, but quailing before the accusing blue eyes fixed upon her.
Patty said no word to the girl, but holding Fleurette close, went at once to the nursery with her.
"She's all right, Winnie, isn't she?" the mother asked, anxiously.
"Yes, ma'am,—I think so,—but she's a little too droopy for mere sleepiness."
"Droopy! what do you mean?"