McCarty acknowledged the recognition with a bow as graceful as his girth permitted.
“You’ve got us right. We just happened to be on hand to-day when Lucette got sick; she’d brought the baby in to hear Mr. Orbit play and he told Jean to bring her back home while the doctor was coming. I guess that French girl’s pretty bad but they didn’t tell us what was the matter with her.”
“Lucette!” The child had caught a familiar name. “Maudie wants Lucette!—Wants to hear mans play adain!”
She struggled to free herself and the woman stooped and set her on her feet but kept a careful grip on the fluffy skirts.
“She’s a handful!” Her tone was exasperated. “It was all I could do to get her quiet and now she’s started hollering again! Lucette’s got a wonderful knack with her, and patience too, and Maudie’s took a great fancy to her, considering the little while she’s been here. She’s a nice girl and I can’t think what’s ailing her, for she was all right when she started out with the baby for a walk this afternoon.”
“Want to walk now!” Maudie announced making an abortive dive forward. “Want to go to Lucette.”
“Hello, there!” McCarty held out a stubby forefinger and Maudie looked up at him for a moment, then shyly clasped her chubby hand about it. “What happened to your pretty balloon?”
“‘Balloon?’” Her other hand went to her mouth and she sucked her thumb reflectively.
“Sure,” McCarty urged encouragingly while Dennis stared at him in surprise. “The grand blue balloon you had. What’s become of it? Did you break it?”
“She had no balloon—,” the woman began, but Maudie was of another mind.