“Well, so you didn’t find the old woman after all?” remarked Mrs. Bobbsey, after she had talked matters over quietly with her husband.
“No. And it begins to look as if we never should. She is more of a mystery than ever. I have notified the police of Hankertown, though, and they said they would keep a lookout for her.”
“And until she is found and tells us the secret of Baby May, we will keep the little girl,” suggested Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Wouldn’t you rather send her to an orphan asylum?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, thinking perhaps the care of the baby was too much for his wife.
“Oh, no indeed!” she exclaimed. “I never could give her up now, unless it were to her real mother.”
“I’d like to know where the real mother is,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “It certainly seems very strange!”
Baby May did not seem to mind being the center of a mystery. She grew fatter and taller, her eyes seemed bluer, her hair more golden, and certainly her smile was sweeter. She was a dear little baby, and every one loved her, especially the Bobbsey twins.
Summer was close at hand now. Every day it seemed warmer and warmer to have to go to school. With the windows open, so the sweet wind blew in and the songs of birds could be heard, it was quite a task to keep the children at their lessons. Miss Riker found it so in the room where Bert and Nan recited.
“Well, children,” said the teacher one Monday afternoon, as the class was about to leave for the day, “Friday, you know, is the last day of school for the term.”
The girls looked at one another with glad eyes, and the boys wanted to shout, but that would not have been allowed. So they kept quiet, though it was hard work.