“No, Alick,” she answered, while a rosy blush and tender smile of joy and embarrassment brightened her face. “It is not for a great doll, it is for a little angel who is coming to us soon.”
“The d—l!” exclaimed Alexander, invoking his master and guide.
She heard him and looked up hastily in surprise and pain.
“I thought you would be glad, Alick,” she said.
“Well, hem, so I——If I’m not glad, it is for your sake, Drusa,” he said, confusedly. Then, gathering more self-control, he added: “You are very young, little Drusa, to have the cares of maternity thrust upon you.”
“Such sweet cares, Alick—not to be known from joys.”
“But you are scarcely sixteen years old!—too young, too young, Drusa.”
“But if I was old enough to be a wife, dear, I am old enough to be a mother.”
“You are too young to be either, little Drusa.”
“You didn’t use to think so. Oh, Alick, I thought you would be glad. I am sorry you are not.”