Then he rolled him up in his clothes, put a triple cap on his little bald head, tied a folded ribbon under his chin to prevent his head falling backward, and then, satisfied with his work, said:
“You saw how I did it, nurse? Well, you must dress this lancer every morning in the same way. Nothing but a little sugar and water till to-morrow. The mother has no fever. Come, all is going on well.
“Lucky Captain! I am so hungry. Do you know that it is one in the morning? You haven’t got cold partridge or a bit of pie that you don’t know what to do with, have you? It would suit me down to the ground, with a bottle of something.”
We went both into the dining-room and laid the cloth without any more ceremony.
I never in my life ate and drank so much as on that occasion.
“Come, get off to bed,” said the doctor, putting on his coat. “To-morrow morning you shall have the wet-nurse. No, by the way, I’ll call for you, and we will go and choose her together; it is curious. Be under arms at half-past eight.”
CHAPTER XXIII. NEW YEAR’S DAY
It is barely seven o’clock. A pale ray of daylight is stealing through the double curtains, and already some one is tapping at the door. I can hear in the next room from the stifled laughter and the silvery tones of Baby, who is quivering with impatience, and asking leave to come in.
“Papa,” he cries, “it is Baby, it is Baby come for the New Year.”