Baby was disporting himself in the high-sided cot; his little legs were bare and kicking against the pillows, his arms were bare, and his soft, sweet neck. Such a gurgle and chirrup of welcome he gave his father! He banged his heels on the iron, he gave a [p 42] ]rapturous little leap, and said ‘Googul, googul, googul.’
Larrie glanced half-shamefacedly through the window to make sure Dot could not see, and then he went over to the cot and said glad responsive ‘googuls,’ and submitted his crisp curls to the wee fingers, and tossed him about in his arms.
But when the dinner-bell rang he laid him down in a hurry, and moved out of the room. Only he could not quite call up the stern ‘firm’ manner again.
Dot sprang up the verandah steps, and went into the bedroom to take off her hat, and wash invisible gardening marks from her fingers.
‘I won’t quarrel,’ she whispered to herself, ‘but I must really show him I am not to be bullied. I will be very firm.’
‘Googul’ said baby.
Such a mournful little googul! there were actually two tiny tears welling up in the blue wide eyes, for tossing and petting were joyful to him.
[p 43]
]Dot shut the door. Then she said ‘Baby’ in a tempestuous little way, and two quick answering tears sprang up in her own eyes as she lifted him up to her. It was such a lonely, reproachful little ‘googul.’ She sat down on the bed with him, and made his small heart gladsome again with kisses and baby-talk.
The door opened one inch—then wide.
‘The curry coolin’ as ’ard as it can, and master lookin’ black, and ’ere you are,’ said Peggie resentfully. ‘Give ’im to me, the darling angel.’