An abrupt movement from Peaches as they advanced made Mrs. Harding glance her way in time to see the first wave of deep colour that ever had flooded the child's white face, come creeping up her neck and begin tinging her cheeks, even her forehead. With a swift movement she snatched her poetry book, which always lay with her slate and primer, thrusting it under her pillow; when she saw Mrs. Harding watching her she tilted her head and pursed her lips in scorn: "'Our!'" she mimicked. "'Our!' Wonder whose she thinks he is? Nix on her!"
Mrs. Harding, caught surprisedly, struggled to suppress a laugh as she turned to meet her guests. Mickey noticed this. He made his introductions, and swiftly thrust Peaches' Precious Child into her arms, warning in a whisper: "You be careful, Miss!"
Peaches needed the reminder. She loved the doll. She had been drilled so often on the thanks she was to tender for it, that with it in her fingers she thought of nothing else, so her smile as Leslie approached was lovely. She held out her hand and before Mickey could speak announced: "Jus' as glad to see you! Thank you ever so much for my Precious Child!"
Nothing more was necessary. Leslie was captivated and would scarcely make way for Douglas to offer his greeting. Mary ran to call her father, while the visitors seated themselves to say the customary polite things; but each of them watched a tiny white-clad creature, with pink ribbons to match the colour in a flawless little face, rounded to the point of delicate beauty, overshadowed by a shower of gold curls, having red lips and lighted by a pair of big, blue-gray eyes with long dark lashes. When Mrs. Harding saw both visitors look so intently at Peaches, and intercepted their glance of admiration toward each other, she looked again herself, and then once more.
Peaches spoke imperiously. "Mickey-lovest, come here and bend down your head."
Mickey slipped behind Douglas' chair, knelt on one knee, and leaned to see what Peaches desired of him. She drew her hankerchief from her waist ribbon, rubbed it across his forehead, looked at the spot with frowning intentness, rubbed again, and then dropping the handkerchief, laid a hand on each side of his head, bent it to her and kissed the spot fervently; then she looked him in the eyes and said with solicitous but engaging sweetness: "Mickey, I do wish you would be more careful what you get on your face!"
Mickey drew back thrilled with delight, but extremely embarrassed. "Aw-a-ah you fool little kid!" he muttered, and could not look at his friends.
Watching, Douglas almost shouted, while the flush deepened on Miss Winton's cheeks. Peter began talking to help the situation, so all of them joined in.
"You are making improvements that look very interesting around here," said Douglas to Mrs. Harding.
"We are doing our level best to evolve a sanitary, modern home for all of us, and to set an example for our neighbours," she said quietly. "We always got along very well as we were, but lately, we have found we could have things much more convenient, and when God gave us two more dear children, we needed room for them, and comforts and appliances to take care of our little new daughter right. When we got started, one thing led to another until we are pretty well torn up; but we've saved the best place for her, and the worst is over."