d I'll be
over to bring you home, if you'll telephone about an hour before you'll
be ready to start."

"Thank you--it really won't be necessary for you to come," I replied.

The Skeptic eyed me narrowly. Then he glanced at Hepatica and grinned.
"Good night," said I, again, and walked away to my room.

"Good night," the Skeptic called after me. "But don't hesitate to call
me if anything should detain Philo."

I arrived at Azalea's home early next morning, having been earnestly
asked to come in time to see the babies take their bath. There is
nothing I like better than to see a baby take a bath, and to see two at
once was a bribe indeed.

Azalea met me at the door of her suburban home, the larger of her two
children--the two-year-old--on her arm. He was evidently just ready for
his bath, for he was wrapped in a blanket, and one pink foot stuck
temptingly out from its folds. Azalea greeted me with enthusiasm,
pushing back the loose, curling locks from her forehead as she did so,
explaining that Bud had just pulled them down. She did not look in the
least like the girl who had sung for us, but it occurred to me that,
enveloped in the big flannel bath-apron, she was even more engaging than
she had been upon the porch at the Farm.

I don't know when I have enjoyed anything so much as I enjoyed seeing
Azalea give that bath. The little baby was asleep in her crib when we
went into the nursery--which had been the guest-room before the second
baby came--so Azalea gave Bud his splash all by himself. He was plump
and dimpled and jolly, and he cried only once--when his mother
inadvertently rubbed soap in his eyes while talking with me. When he
smiled again he was a cherub of cherubs, but he had waked his small
sister, and Azalea gave me permission to take her up while she finished
with Bud. She was six months old, and she was afraid of me only for a
minute or two, and I held her and cuddled her and wanted to take her
away with me so fiercely that I had all I could do to give her over to
Azalea for her bath. Boy babies are delightful, but girl babies are
heavenly!

* * * * *

We had a busy day--made up of babies, with more or less talk between,
which didn't matter in the least. Late in the afternoon Azalea put
everything straight in the rooms, more or less upset by Bud during the
day; and dressed herself for the evening. She dressed both children,
also, making them fresh as rosebuds. I saw her