“I offered first,” argued Mrs. Chaffee, a haughty dame, whose dark eyes blazed angrily, as she noted Patty’s indifference to her claim. “I wish to have the child, and I can give her every advantage.”
“So can I,” said Miss Penrose, a delightful middle-aged spinster, who wanted an heir to her fortune and a pet to lavish her affection upon. “I want her very much. I can devote all my time and attention to her. She shall have the best of education and training, and my wealth shall all be hers.”
Patty considered. Miss Penrose was of aristocratic family, and her prestige was undeniable. She would give all care and study to a most careful, correct bringing up of the baby, and Milly’s future would be assured. But, and Patty did not herself realise at first why she objected to Miss Penrose, until it suddenly dawned on her that it was because the lady had no sense of humour! Patty was sure she would take the upbringing of Milly so seriously that the sunny baby would become a little automaton. This was instinctive on Patty’s part, for she knew Miss Penrose only slightly, but the earnestness of the lady was very apparent.
Smilingly holding the question in abeyance, Patty listened to the plea of the third applicant. This was Mrs. Colton, a sad-faced, sweet-eyed young widow. Two years before, a motor accident had snatched from her her husband and baby girl, and had left her for a time hovering between life and death. Only of late, had she listened to her friends’ urging to go among people once more, and this tea was almost her first appearance in society since her tragic affliction.
With tears in her eyes, she said to Patty: “I must have the baby. She is not unlike my little Gladys, and she would be to me a veritable Godsend. I have thought often of adopting a child, and this is the one I want. I love her already. Will you come to me, Milly?”
Milly eyed her. For a moment the two looked at each other intently. There was a breathless pause, and all who were near felt the dramatic intensity of the moment. Mrs. Colton smiled, and it may have been that Milly read in that smile all the pent-up mother-love and longing, for she dropped Patty’s hand and walked slowly toward the lady,—her little arms outstretched. Reaching her, she threw her arms about her neck, exclaiming, “I fink you’s booful!”
This phrase was her highest praise, and as Mrs. Colton’s arms closed round the child, no one could doubt that these two hearts were forever united.
“I hope you will take her, Mrs. Colton,” said Patty, earnestly; “you are made for each other.”
“Indeed, I will take her, if I may. In fact, I cannot let her go!” and the tear-dimmed eyes, full of affection, gazed at the little cherub.
“But I want her,” declared Mrs. Chaffee. “I asked for her first, and I think it most unfair——”