“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Repton, helplessly. “The little wretch was plumped down into the middle of our luggage when we came away this morning, and Mr Bayre thought it best to bring it on with us and to try to find out who it belongs to from here. But it’s a mad business. Here comes Mrs Inkersole. Oh, shut her up! Tell her anything, anything!”
And unable to stand a strict examination on the part of the landlady with neither of his friends to back him up, Repton flew up the stairs and straight into his room on the second floor.
But in the front room the unfortunate infant was making its presence known by a succession of screams so piercing that all three young men became possessed with a dreadful fear that it would shriek itself into a premature grave, and that they would conjointly be held responsible for its death in convulsions.
In vain they all three tried to soothe it. In vain Repton, seizing the milk-jug, which had been placed upon the table with the tea-things, tried to pour some of the milk into the child’s mouth, a proceeding in which he nearly succeeded in choking him. In vain Southerley dangled his watch before the boy’s eyes till he almost threw the works out of gear. In vain Bayre, the most anxious and miserable of the three, took the child in his arms and tossed it in the air with many frantic attempts to soothe and please it.
Still the unhappy and frightened babe screamed on, and was rapidly growing apopletic in his distress when they were all startled by a knock at the door.
“Oh, come in!” cried Bayre, foreseeing a terrible interview with the landlady which would bring their misfortunes to a climax.
But it was not Mrs Inkersole who entered. Looking shyly round her, bowing to the three young men with a downcast and blushing face, there entered, quietly dressed in black, a woman, a beautiful young woman, tall, broad-shouldered, with fluffy fair hair and the face of an overgrown baby, just the placid-looking, womanly, slow-moving creature whom Bayre had pictured as his ideal.
CHAPTER VIII.
BAYRE’S IDEAL
It is impossible to describe the scene of wild confusion which followed the lady’s entrance. Bayre nearly dropped the baby and Repton the milk-jug. While Southerley, the only member of the party who retained a little self-possession, tried in vain, by placing himself between Bayre and the fair visitor, to hide the cause of all their woes.
A preposterous attempt this at the best, since there was no mistaking the unfortunate child’s cries for anything else.