“Our child,” said Pickering solemnly, “developed a most astonishing mental power this morning, and actually uttered two consecutive syllables like this, ‘Ar-goo!’”
“So did Elyot at the same tender age,” observed Jasper, “and Barby too, I believe.”
“Now, you just be quiet, Pickering!” Alexia cried, starting forward; “and aren’t you ashamed, Jasper, to help him on? Baby actually said the most beautiful words; he really and truly did. And that’s what I wanted to come out for to-night, Polly, as much as to look at the house, to tell you that baby’s talking; and he’s only eight months old! Think of that, now!”
“I met Roslyn May down town to-day,” said Pickering when the laugh had subsided.
“Did you!” exclaimed Jasper.
Polly stopped laughing at one of Alexia’s sallies, and met her husband’s eyes. His look said, “Strange he did not come out here.”
“Yes; he just got in day before yesterday, he told me, from England. I couldn’t understand what he came over for.”
“He is going to stay some time, I suppose,” said Jasper, “now he’s here.”
“No, he was on the way to the steamer, when we ran across each other on Broadway,—sailed to-day on the Cunarder; that is, he said he was going to.”
“He was going right back!” exclaimed Polly; and going over to Jasper’s side, she lay her hand on his. “What do you mean, Pickering?”