"Well you fool little sweet kid!" cried Mickey and choked. He fled around the house as Peter came out. In his ears as he went sounded Peter's big voice and the delighted cries of the family.
"I want Mickey!" wailed Peaches.
He heard her call and ran back fast for fear he might be so slow reaching her that Peter would serve. But to his joy he found that he alone would answer.
"I want to see me!" demanded Peaches.
"Sure you do!" cried Peter. "I'll just hand down the big hall mirror so you can see all of you at once."
He brought it and set it before her. Peaches stared and drew back. She cried, "Aw-w—ah!" in a harsh, half-scared voice. She gripped Mickey with one hand and the parasol with the other; she leaned and peeped, and marvelled, and smiled at a fully clothed little girl in the glass, while the image smiled back. Peaches thought of letting go of Mickey to touch her hat and straighten her skirt, but felt so lost without him, that she handed Peter the parasol, and used that hand, while the other clung to her refuge. When Mickey saw the treasure go in his favour, he swallowed lumps of emotion so big that the Hardings could see them running down his throat. Peaches intent on the glass smiled, grimaced, tilted her head, and finally began flirting outrageously with herself, until all of them laughed and recalled her. She looked at Peter, smiled her most winsome smile and exclaimed: "Well ain't I the——"
"Now you go easy, Miss Chicken," warned Mickey.
"Mickey, if you hadn't stopped me I'd done it sure!" sobbed Peaches, collapsing against him. "'F I had, would you a-took these bu'ful things 'way from me?" "No I wouldn't!" said Mickey. "I couldn't to save me. But I should!"
"Mickey, I'm so tired," she said. "Take my hat an' put it where I can see it, an' my passol, an' my coat; gee, I don't have to be wrapped in sheets no more, an' lay me down. Quick Mickey, I'm sick-like."
"Well I ought to had the sense not to spring so much all at once," said
Mickey, "but it all seemed to belong. Sure I will, you poor kid!"