"Tha'll feel batter whan t' lil baaby cooms."
Profoundly disturbed and resentful of her own emotion Mrs. Gale seized upon the tea-pot as a pretext and shut herself up with it in the scullery.
* * * * *
Essy, staggering, rose and dried her eyes. For a moment or so she stared idly at the square window with the blue-black night behind it.
Then she looked down. She smiled faintly. One by one she took the little garments spread out in front of her. She folded them in a pile.
Her face was still and dreamy.
She opened the scullery door and looked in.
"Good-night, Moother."
"Good-night, Assy."
* * * * *