“I will do what I can, but I must confess it seems to me an unnatural thing. I had supposed parents less selfish than that.”
Wilford did not care what Helen had supposed, and her opposition only made him more resolved. Still he did not say so, and he tried to smile as he quitted the table and remarked to her,
“I hope to find Katy reconciled when I come home. I think I had better not go up to her again, so tell her I send a good-bye kiss by you. I leave her case in your hands.”
It was a far more difficult case than either he or Helen imagined, and the latter started back in alarm from the white face which greeted her view as she entered Katy’s room, and then with a moan hid itself in the pillow.
“Wilford thought he would not come up, but he sent a kiss by me,” Helen said, softly touching the bright, disordered hair, all she could see of her sister.
“It does not matter,” Katy gasped. “Kisses cannot help me if they take baby away. Did he tell you?” and she turned now partly towards Helen, who nodded affirmatively, while Katy continued, “Had he taken a knife and cut a cruel gash it would not have hurt me half so badly. I could bear that, but my baby—oh, Helen, do you think they will take her away?”
She was looking straight at Helen, who shivered as she met an expression so unlike Katy, and so like to that a hunted deer might wear if its offspring were in danger.
“Say, do you think they will?” she continued, shedding back with her thin hand the mass of tangled curls which had fallen about her eyes.
“Whom do you mean by they?” Helen asked, coming near to her, and sitting down upon the bed.
There was a resentful gleam in the blue eyes usually so gentle, as Katy answered,