One of the sugared cakes had escaped Master Plummer's cyclonic appetite, and with this the amateur nurse tried to tempt the screaming child into silence.
The cake shared the fate of the peanuts, and the princess gave every evidence in her power of a positive refusal to be soothed.
Joe had tossed her in the air, fondled her in his arms, paced to and fro as if walking for a wager, but all without avail, and now it seemed necessary he should have assistance.
Master Plummer's rest had not been disturbed by the noise, but he rose to a sitting posture very suddenly when Joe kicked him almost roughly.
"Wha—wha—what's the matter?" he asked, blinking in the light of the candle, which was directly in front of his eyes.
"I should think you might know by this time! Can't you hear the princess?"
"I thought there'd be a row if she waked up," Master Plummer replied, in a matter-of-fact tone, and then he laid himself down again, evidently intending to continue the interrupted nap.
"See here, Plums, you can't do that!" Joe cried, sharply. "I mustn't be left alone with this poor little thing. It ain't certain but she'll die, she's so frightened."
"Don't fret yourself. She'll come out of it after a spell; all Mis' Carter's kids used to."
"But she isn't like them, I tell you! They could stand 'most anything, an' she's been raised different."