“No,” she said, “no, Artie, her’s not a’ inch like a monkey. Her’s booful, just booful, and monkeys isn’t.”
Then suddenly she gave a little cry.
“Oh papa, dear, do look,” she called out, “her’s openin’ her eyes. I never ’amembered her could open her eyes,” and Mary nearly danced with delight.
Yes indeed, Miss Baby was opening her eyes and more than her eyes—her little round mouth opened too, and she began to cry—quite loud!
Mary had heard babies cry before now, of course, but somehow everything about this baby was too wonderful. She did not seem at all like the babies Mary saw sometimes when she was out walking; she was like herself and not anything else.
Mary’s face grew red again when she heard the baby cry.
“Oh papa, dear,” she said. “Has her hurt herself?”
“No, no, she’s all right,” said papa. But all the same he did not take baby out of her cot—papas are very fond of their babies of course, but I do not think they like them quite so much when they cry—instead of that, he turned towards the door leading into the next room.
“Nurse,” he said in a low voice, but nurse heard him.
“Yes, sir,” said a voice, in reply, and then came another surprise for Mary. The person who came quickly into the room was not “nurse” at all, but somebody quite different, though she had a nice face and was very neatly dressed. Who could she be? The world did seem very upside down this birthday morning to Mary!