Every woman's baby is the only
pretty one she ever saw in her life."
Carol and David were a little indignant at first, but finally they
decided to make allowances for the doctor,--he was old, and of course
he must be tired of babies, he had ushered in so many. They would try
and apply their Christian charity to him, though it was a great strain
on their religion.
But what should be done with Julia? David was so ill, Carol so weak,
the baby so tender. Was it safe to keep her there? But could they let
that little rosebud go?
"Why, I will just take her home with me," said Aunt Grace gently. "And
we'll keep her until you are ready. Oh, it won't be a bit of trouble.
We want her."
That settled it. The baby was to go.
"For once in my life I have made a sacrifice," said Carol grimly. "I
think I must be improving. I have allowed myself to be hurt, and
crushed, and torn to shreds, for the good of some one else. I
certainly must be improving."
Later she thought, "She will know all her aunties before she knows me.
She will love them better. When I go home, she will not know me, and
will cry for Aunt Grace. She will be afraid of me. Really, some
things are very hard." But to David she said that of course the
doctors were right, and she and David were so old and sensible that it
would be quite easy to do as they were bid.
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