Kate waved toward the babies: "Will you please take them away until they need me?" she asked.
"Of course," said the doctor. "But don't you want to see them, Kate? There isn't a mark or blemish on either of them. The boy weighs seven pounds and the girl six; they seem as perfect as children can be."
"You needn't worry about that," said Kate. "Twins are a Bates habit. My mother had three pairs, always a boy and a girl, always big and sound as any children; mine will be all right, too."
The doctor started to turn back the blanket. Kate turned her head away: "Don't you think I have had about enough at present?" she asked. "I'd stake my life that as a little further piece of my punishment, the girl looks exactly like Mrs. Holt."
"By Jove," said the doctor, "I couldn't just think who it was."
He carried the babies from the room, lowered the blinds, and Kate tried to sleep, and did sleep, because she was so exhausted she could not keep awake.
Later in the evening Aunt Ollie slipped in, and said George was in the woodhouse, almost crying himself to death, and begging to see her.
"You tell him I'm too sick to be seen for at least a week," said Kate.
"But, my dear, he's so broken up; he feels so badly," begged Aunt Ollie.
"So do I," said Kate. "I feel entirely too badly to be worried over seeing him. I must take the babies now."