But in her heart,
Connie, the young, untouched by sorrow, alive with the passion for
work, was crying out in resentment. Big, buoyant, active David reduced
to this. Carol, radiant, glowing, gleaming Carol,--this subdued gentle
woman with the thin face and dark circles beneath her eyes. "Oh, it is
wrong," thought Connie,--though she still smiled, for hearts are
marvelous creations, holding such sorrow, and hiding it well.
When their wraps were removed, Julia sat on David's table, with David's
hand squeezing her knees, and Carol clutching her feet, and with
Connie, big and bright, sitting back and watching quietly, and telling
them startling and imaginary tales of the horrors she had encountered
on the train. David was entranced, and Carol was enchanted. This was
their baby, this brilliant, talented, beautiful little fairy,--and
Carol alternately nudged David's arm and tapped his shoulder to remind
him of the dignity of his fatherhood.
But in one little hour, she remembered that after all, David was her
job, and even crowy, charming little Julia must not crowd him aside,
and she hastened to prepare the endless egg-nog. Then from the kitchen
window she saw the auto, still standing before their door.
"Oh, my gracious!" she gasped.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194