“But suppose,” I persisted, “that she should need her rest and that the doctor thought the baby would be certain to disturb her?”
“If it cries,” Pelleas suggested then with magnificent generosity, “you might get it and rock it awhile.”
“Pelleas!” I cried, “don’t you see? Maybe we can have the baby with us all night.”
Pelleas looked up in surprise; then his dear face shone.
“Could we, do you think?” he said, as we say when we want a thing very much.
“We will,” I promised.
Therefore when we heard the doctor coming downstairs we hurried to the hall and waited for him at the foot of the stairs. Between us we must have laid the matter before him, though I do not in the least remember what we may have said; but some way we made him know for he nodded and smiled in a surprising fashion.
“Yes,” said he, “yes—by all means! I really am persuaded that it would be an act of charity for you to keep that baby with you to-night.”
“On our niece’s account, you know,” said I with dignity.
“Certainly,” said he gravely, and caught up his hat and rushed away. At the time it seemed to me that he was curiously moved about something and I feared that Enid might be very ill.