“Ah, the baby!” she cried. “Let me have the baby.”
Hobart Eddy had risen and had helped me to rise; and I fancy that he and Enid’s baby and I hardly heard Mrs. Trempleau’s pretty urgency. But when she let fall the flowers and held out her arms, Hobart looked at her and did not let the baby go.
“This little old man and I,” he said, “we understand each other. And we’re going to walk together, if you don’t mind.”
On Wednesday Mrs. Trempleau sailed for Cherbourg alone. But when I told Pelleas the whole matter he shook his head.
“If those two had intended eloping,” he said, “all the christenings in Christendom wouldn’t have prevented.”
“Pelleas!” I said, “I am certain—”
“If those two had intended to elope,” he patiently began it all over again, “all the—”
“Pelleas,” I urged, “I don’t believe it!”
“If those two—” I heard him trying to say.