“Now be good to the baby; he’s been asking for you all morning,” he said, kissing Elizabeth with an effort at kindliness and understanding.
Elizabeth’s head was aching wildly, and she was so nervous that she could scarcely endure being spoken to at all.
“Then don’t leave him here, John, for I can’t bear to have him fussing around,” she said, trying to be appreciative.
“Oh, well, if you don’t want him at all, I’ll take him out again,” he said crossly, setting the tray on a chair beside the bed.
He was able, however, to see that the girl was not altogether herself, and shut the door behind him carefully. The door shut so softly that the latch did not catch. When Jack finished his dinner he came running to his mother’s room at once. The door gave way under his hand and he stood looking into the room curiously. After a glance around, he advanced confidently toward the bed with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Elizabeth set her teeth hard. She was unable to reach out and lift him to a chair where he would not jar the bed, so it was her intention to be patient.
Jack’s eyes fell upon the tray as he passed it, and he wheeled around and took stock of the contents of this new form of table. Frantic with irritability and knowing that she would be at fault in the manner of correcting the child, his mother let him eat out of the plate she had left untouched, rather than have a scene with him. Presently, however, Jack laid down the spoon with which he had been eating and attacked a dish of berries with his hands, letting the drops from the ends of his fingers trickle down the front of his clean gingham dress. Elizabeth happened to look up and saw what he was doing. There was no telling when she could get another washing done and her impulse was to spring at him and snatch him from harm’s way, but she was trying to be more gentle and, drawing in a deep breath, she spoke as quietly as she could command herself to do.
“Don’t do that, Jack,” she said, reaching out her hand to take him by the arm.
Jack clutched the dish in sudden haste and raised it to his mouth, letting a stream of the purple juice dribble from it to his own bulging front before his mother could get her hand on him. Then, fearing a repetition of the blow of the night before, the baby threw himself on the floor, screaming loudly.
John came excitedly from the kitchen.