“There’s no house in sight,” said Patty, looking about. “Well, there are only two things to choose from; to stay here in hope that somebody will come along, who knows something about this baby, or else assume that she really has been deserted and take her home with us, for the night at least. I simply won’t go off and leave her here, and if there was anybody here in charge of her they must have shown up by this time.”
Mr. Phelps could see no use in waiting there any longer, and though it seemed absurd to carry the child off with them, there really seemed nothing else to do.
So with a last look around, hoping to see somebody, but seeing no one, Patty climbed into the car and sitting in the front seat beside Mr. Phelps, held the baby in her lap.
“She’s awfully cunning,” she declared, “and such a pretty baby! Whoever abandoned this child ought to be fearfully punished in some way.”
“I can’t think she was abandoned,” said Mr. Phelps, but as he couldn’t think of any other reason for the baby being there alone, he was forced to accept the desertion theory.
Having decided to take the baby with them, they sped along home, and drew up in front of the house to find Nan and Mr. Fairfield on the verandah.
“Why, how do you do, Mr. Phelps?” cried Nan. “We’re very glad to see you. Come in. For gracious goodness’ sake, Patty, what have you got there?”
“This is Rosabel,” said Patty, gravely, as she held the baby up to view.