CHAPTER XIX
THAT CROWDED DAY’S END
Trixy brought Jane back with her. And she, being Jane, asked no foolish questions. It did, however, take her a few minutes to regain her composure. It was so long since she had seen her darling “Glory.” And to find her here, in all this misery, like a ministering angel with her eyes now begging liberation!
Jane clasped and reclasped the slender form. Gloria choked and gurgled back her own tears.
“Jane! Oh, Jane!” she hardly whispered. “I’ve needed you so!”
“Then why—”
“If you will just give your orders, Miss Glorified, Beautified, Florence Nightingale Doane,” interrupted Trixy, “I’ll shoo Marty off for the Berg nurse. We really must make rapid strides now if we are too cover the rest of the high spots.”
“You’re right,” said Jane, tilting her chin down on the baby’s fist that was so intimately exploring her neck lines. She had rescued the child as her first maternal act following the reckless joy of reclaiming her own baby, Gloria. “I thought my sister’s children were active,” she declared, “but these, the poor neglected darlings!”
“Pile them all in the car and shoot them off with Marty,” suggested Gloria, using Trixy’s apt term. “They will be enthralled with such a ride.”
“The very thing,” agreed Trixy.