"Don't you think," whispered Dotty, clutching her auntie by the dress, "don't you think we'd better be going?"
"Why, dear, are you tired of your brother so soon?"
"O, I want to get the carriage, you know, and the money to pay him for."
Miss Louise, who knew that her little niece was terribly in earnest, now tried to divert her with pictures; but Dotty was not to be wheedled by any such arts.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Dr. Gray; "we'll keep little Phil for you till he's as tall as a pair of tongs."
Unfortunately there was a fireplace in the room, and Dotty's keen eyes at once espied the tongs, leaning against a brass rester. As quick as a thought she seized them, and laid them in the cradle beside the baby. They were half an inch shorter than Phil—even the doctor was obliged to confess it.
"Bravo! Miss Bright Eyes," said he, catching up Dotty, and whirling her over his shoulder; "you have a shrewd little brain of your own. I see you can be trusted to make your own bargains."
The baby had been for some moments nestling uneasily, and of course was broad awake by this time, screaming lustily, as if to protest against the inhuman proceeding of being bought and sold.
Dotty had just time to see that her "brother" had "nut-blue" eyes, when she was hurried away by her aunt Louise.
For three days the expectant child was kept in suspense by mirthful Dr. Gray, who pretended that he should bring the baby to her some time when she did not expect it. She often rushed into the parlor, saying, "O, I thought I heard somethin' cryin';" and almost cried herself because there was no baby there. "I wish I could stop expecting my brother," said Dotty, sorrowfully, "for then he might come."