“You look as if you didn’t get much sleep,” said the senior-sergeant, bluntly, to the settler’s wife, “and your sister too.”
“And so would you,” said Aunt Annie, sharply, “if you were up with a sick baby all night.”
“Sad affair that, about Brown the schoolmaster,” said the younger trooper to Aunt Annie.
“Yes,” said Aunt Annie, “it was indeed.”
The senior-sergeant stood glowering. Presently he said brutally—“The baby don’t seem to be very sick; what’s the matter with it?”
The young troopers move uneasily, and one impatiently.
“You should have seen her” (the baby) “about twelve o’clock last night,” said Aunt Annie, “we never thought she would live till the morning.”
“Oh, didn’t you?” said the senior-sergeant, in a half-and-half tone.
The mother took the baby and held it so that its face was hidden from the elder policeman.
“What became of Brown’s family, miss?” asked the young trooper. “Do you remember Lucy Brown?”