“That’s the reason I didn’t see any one when I looked through the glass door,” remarked Mrs. Bobbsey. “The old lady was gone.”
“Didn’t you see the baby in the basket, either?” asked Flossie, putting her littlest finger softly on the roselike cheek of Baby May.
“No, dear, I didn’t see the basket,” Mrs. Bobbsey answered. “It was off to one side, sheltered from the rain.”
“The old lady took good care of the baby, I’ll say that, even if she did desert her,” resumed Mr. Bobbsey. “After she had rung the bell the first time, she watched, and when she saw that you didn’t open the door, she rang it a second time. Then she must have gone away, feeling sure you would come and take the baby in.”
“But we didn’t!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “The poor little dear was out in the rain all night!”
“But she was warmly wrapped up,” Mr. Bobbsey said. “And she must have been well fed, for she didn’t cry.”
“If she did, we didn’t hear her,” his wife remarked.
“But I’m glad we found Baby May; aren’t you, Mother?” asked Nan.
Mrs. Bobbsey looked at her husband and the two exchanged strange glances, though they could not help smiling. Mrs. Bobbsey was already bringing up two sets of twins, and perhaps she did not care to start in with a strange, new baby.
But no woman could help loving sweet Baby May, and the manner in which Mrs. Bobbsey leaned over and kissed the soft cheek showed how tender was her heart.