"Hey, king and country!" the old man cried, upsetting the popper. "Don't get a child around here underfoot. I'm too old. I deserve grown folks. My head hurts me—"
"Matthew," said Ellen to her husband, "let Helders bring us one. To-morrow—for Christmas, Mat!"
Matthew looked slowly from side to side. It seemed incredible that so large a decision should lie with a man so ineffectual.
"'Seems like we'd ought to think about it a while first," he said weakly.
"Think about it!" said Ellen. "When haven't I thought about it? When have I thought about anything else but him we haven't got any more?"
"Ellen!" the mother mourned, "you don't know what you're taking on yourself—"
"Hush, mother," Ellen said gently; "you don't know what it is. You had me."
She faced Helders. "Will you bring two when you come back to-morrow night?" she said; "and one of them for us?"
Helders looked sidewise at Matthew, who was fumbling at his pipe.
"Wouldn't you want to see it first, now?" Helders temporized. "And a girl or a boy, now?"