“See how sleepy it is,” Rosie said with a kind of triumph. “Ah there comes Laura. Oh I wonder if she had the sense to put the milk in one of Delia’s old bottles?”
Laura had had the sense to do this, and was obviously proud of her foresight. Very expertly, Rosie turned a few drops from the bottle onto the back of her hand; decided it was not too hot; inserted the nipple in the baby’s mouth. The little girl pulled on it like one famished; pulled so hard and long and deep that Rosie had, once or twice, to take the bottle away to keep her from choking. The little hands always reached out for the bottle and after a few instants Rosie gave it to her again.
In the meantime, Maida answered the stream of Laura’s questions, and Laura answered the torrent of Maida’s.
The baby pulled continuously at the bottle. Rosie had to lift the lower end higher and higher. After a long while, the baby dropped the nipple with a little sigh of relaxation. Her eyes, which had been growing heavier and heavier closed ... opened ... closed....
Now she was asleep.
“I don’t know what her feeding hours are,” Rosie said. “I’ll give her another feeding at four this afternoon. I’m going to fix the alarm clock so that I’ll wake at ten to-night, then I’ll let her go until morning. I don’t believe she has more than one night feeding. Even if she does, she can get along without it, one night. She seems famished now though. I never saw such a hungry baby.”
“You wake me up,” Maida said almost jealously. “Remember she’s my baby.”
“Yes,” Rosie agreed, “I’ll wake you.” She knit her satiny brows. “I wonder whose baby she is? They must be awfully worried about her by this time.”
“Oh, I left a note,” Maida protested.