But Anne did not seem to approve of the plan. She shook her head as she gazed at the curly-haired boy who was banging the breakfast table with a teaspoon. “That would never do for you, girls.”
But another ring on the telephone interrupted further argument on that subject. Anne described Billy all over again—“Large brown eyes, very soft silky hair—yellow and curly. About thirty pounds weight, eight front teeth, aged about sixteen months.”
Before she had completed her description of the foundling, the distracted mother at the other end of the wire sighed: “He’s not mine—thank you.”
“Polly and I are not going to school this morning, Anne,” Eleanor now informed the young teacher.
“I don’t see why not?” demanded she.
“First, your mother can’t be chasing back and forth to the ’phone all day; and secondly, we do not propose having a stranger calling and stealing our baby. Unless the parents present perfectly satisfactory evidence that Billy is theirs, no one shall get him.”
Anne smiled, but seeing that it was almost nine o’clock, she consented to the two girls remaining home that session; furthermore, she promised to explain to Mrs. Wellington about the magnet that had kept them at home.
Later in the morning, Dr. Evans stopped in to see if any one had called for the baby. Polly and Eleanor were in the midst of giving Billy his bath in the large tub. Such laughing and shouting had never been heard in that bathroom before. Even Mrs. Stewart laughed in sympathy, as she told the doctor what a fine well-behaved child Billy was.
“I’ll call again this evening, Mrs. Stewart. If he has not been claimed by that time, I will see what I can do to relieve you of his care.”
“Oh—he is no care whatever, doctor; and I doubt whether the girls will consent to your taking him to a home—for a few days, at any rate. They think someone will call for him.”