She could say no more, for her words were cut short just here and her excitement found vent in a happy sob.
“Why, my dear,” said Steve, taking her gently by the arm and leading her toward the house.
But Nannie resisted:
“No, no,” she cried. “I'm going right back, I only came home for you. You must go right over. Randolph is wild. Oh, it's so dear and sweet! Just like a rose! I could smother it with kisses!”
She would hardly let him go for his hat, and all the way over she dragged him along, insisting upon greater speed and chattering in an excited, happy way that was perfectly new and perfectly delightful to Steve.
Randolph was on the lookout for them, and his excitement was no less than Nannie's.
“You must see the pretty little baby, old man,” he said after an impetuous hand-shaking.
“Why, yes, do let me see it.”
“Don't say it,” exclaimed Nannie. “It's a little girl.”
“Well, my dear—really—you forgot to mention which it was.”