"I'll explain later. I will! You'll hear from me soon."
Again he drew away from her. "Just as you say,"—resentfully.
The front door shut behind him, Clare called up the stairs. "Tottie!
Tottie!" She listened, a hand pressing her bosom.
"A-a-a-all right!"
Clare did not wait. Running back into the front-parlor, she stood on a chair in the bay-window, and worked at the hook holding the bird-cage. "Well, precious!" she crooned. "Missy's little friend! Her darling pet! Her love-bird! How's the sweet baby?" The cage released, she stepped down and hurried across the room.'
"Aunt Clare!"—first the clear, glad cry; next, a head all tumbled curls.
"Barbara!" Clare came short. Then, as Tottie sauntered in, "Oh, what's this young one doing here?"
Barbara had risen, discarding the doll and the shawl, and gone to Clare. Now, feeling herself rebuffed, she went back to the settee, watching Clare anxiously.
"Waitin' for you," answered Tottie, taking up her shawl.
"Aunt Clare!" pleaded the child, softly.