“Let’s turn down the light and hide behind the velour portières,” whispered Anne, anxiously.
The five guilty members of the surprise-party quickly hid themselves as best they could, but not so soon, but that they heard Henri returning. He was talking, and other voices were replying.
“I donno why the missee’s come in an’ fetch a bebby. Dey say ‘He a big surprise,’ Mr. Dalken.”
To the amazement of the hidden ones, Mr. Dalken’s voice now replied: “Never mind, Henri. I’ll be out with my visitors, in a moment. I only want to get a handkerchief from the dresser.”
The five culprits saw him switch up the lights and they then heard Billy welcome the unusual privilege with a gurgle. Not a sound came from the man who must have heard the baby-voice and seen the occupant of his massive four-poster.
Polly could stand it no longer. She had to peep out at what was going on. The first thing she saw, was Eleanor’s head showing from the side of the other portière. Both girls watched the scene with bated breath.
Mr. Dalken stood beside the bed, looking down at the little bundle that made a dent in the middle of his comfortable mattress. Billy was waving his fists invitingly, as if to say, “Come on and fight!”
As the two girls watched him, Mr. Dalken smiled and said: “So you are Billy Martin, are you?”
The two eaves-droppers glanced at each other in consternation. “How and why did Mr. Dalken call their baby Billy Martin?”
“Well, Billy, suppose we go out and see what your Daddy thinks of you. For my part, I say you’re just about perfect.” As Mr. Dalken spoke, he carefully lifted the willing baby from the bed and cuddled him in his arms. Then he went from the room.