“No, it isn’t,” answered Mildred, with a touch of petulance that was pretty in so lovely a child. “I want Fay to sleep with me. I want her to tell me stories every night.”
“You have mother to tell you stories, Mildred,” said Mrs. Fausset, already inclined to be jealous.
“Not very often. Mother goes to parties almost every night.”
“Not at The Hook, love.”
“O, but at The Hook there’s always company. Why can’t I have Fay to tell me stories every night?” urged the child persistently.
“I don’t see why they should not be together, Maud,” said Mr. Fausset, always prone to indulge Mildred’s lightest whim.
“It is better that Fay should have a room of her own, for a great many reasons,” replied his wife, with a look of displeasure.
“Very well, Maud, so be it,” he answered, evidently desiring to conciliate her. “And which room is Fay to have?”
“I have given her Bell’s room.”
Mr. Fausset’s countenance fell.