“Yes, give her to me,” said Cricket, hopping into bed, and holding out her arms. “Isn’t she soft and warm, though. She’s just like a little hot-water bag. I’ll put you on the side next the wall, you cunning thing, so you can’t fall out again.”
Eunice jumped into bed and drew up the blankets with a perfect groan of relief, and Eliza departed, leaving them in darkness and quiet again.
“If she kicks very hard, Cricket, I’ll take her back, after I’ve had a little—snooze—but—I’m so—” and Eunice dropped off, even as she spoke. Cricket cuddled the baby in her arms, where it actually lay still for a minute or two, and Cricket improved the opportunity to go to sleep herself.
CHAPTER VIII.
A BEDFELLOW.
Two or three hours passed, and the household were all asleep; Cricket, in the intervals of her disturbed dreams, had fished her little charge up from her feet, and extricated her from an amazing tangle of sheets and blankets. She had awakened from an oppressive dream of drowning to find the baby sprawling over her chest, with both legs around her neck. She had patiently restored her each time to her own corner. At last, thoroughly tired out with this unaccustomed wakefulness and responsibility, she fell into a sleep much heavier than usual, regardless of Mosina’s continued antics.
At last a strange, new sound slowly penetrated her consciousness, and she gradually awakened to the fact that there had been a queer, wheezing noise close to her ear for some time. Still dazed with sleep; she lay bewildered for a moment or two, till it suddenly dawned on her that the queer noise came from the small atom at her side. Mosina was wheezing and choking in a way that became more alarming every moment.
“Eunice! Eunice!” cried Cricket, suddenly realising that something was seriously wrong; “for goodness sake, wake up! Something’s the matter with the baby!”
“In a moment,” answered Eunice, sleepily, thinking that she was being called to breakfast.
“Eunice, get up! Run for ’Liza! Baby’s dying!”
“What?” cried Eunice, startled into full wakefulness. “Oh, Cricket! What is it? What awful noises!”