Flossie and Freddie came creeping up the stairs, having left their play at the sound of the baby’s cries.
“Is she all right now?” asked Flossie. “Could I take her out?”
“She is far from being all right,” answered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Better run down and play some more, little twins. Nan and I will look after Baby May.”
“She sounds all right,” observed Freddie. “She’s making a lot of noise,” for the infant was crying hard.
“All babies have to cry,” wisely remarked Flossie, as she went downstairs with her brother. “You cried when you were little.”
“I don’t ’member it,” said Freddie.
The doctor came again that evening soon after supper. He carefully looked the baby over and, after sitting in his chair and appearing to be in deep thought, he asked:
“Has she ever had the jaundice?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Bobbsey answered. “You see, she isn’t our baby, exactly. She was left on our doorstep, and what she may have had and gotten over I don’t know.”
“Um—yes,” remarked the doctor. “Well, it looks to me as if she were going to have a touch of the jaundice; she’s getting a bit yellow. I’ll give her some new medicine,” and he began to write on one of his prescription blanks.