“No,” admitted the other, smiling at the absurdity of such an idea. She was almost beginning to regret her action, viewed from Florence’s common-sense point of view. “Will your mother be angry?”
“No; she and Edith will both think you were wonderful to do it. They’re both dipped on the charity stuff.”
Daisy breathed a sigh of relief; it was something to have Mrs. Evans’s and her oldest daughter’s approval of her impetuosity.
The girls were greeted at the door by all the members of the Evans family. Edith had noticed the taxi from the window, had seen Daisy’s bundle which she identified as a baby, and had rushed out in breathless curiosity.
Daisy entered the hall first, vainly attempting to hide her excitement, while Florence followed in haughty disdain.
“Where did you get the baby?” demanded Edith, in amazement. “Do let me see!”
“Oh, the poor thing needs a bath!” said Mrs. Evans, taking it from Daisy’s arms. “And is probably hungry, too!”
In broken sentences, Daisy managed to tell her story, apologizing profusely for her audacity in bringing the child to her hostess’s home. But both Mrs. Evans and Edith immediately silenced her by assuring her of their sanction of her deed.
“It’s exactly what I would have done myself,” said Mrs. Evans, “and I am so glad you were there to offer, for such a thing never would have occurred to Florence.”
“Hardly!” remarked her younger daughter. “I’m too practical; I’d have counted the cost first.”