him as we are.
Maman, how old was she when the Earlys came to board with us?"

"About two, and the dearest baby!" answered Madame with readiness, for
next to talking of Leon she loved to talk of Joyce. "Her poor mother
even then was marked for death, and when she passed away, during one of
her husband's frequent absences, I took her baby right into my arms and
heart."

"And Leon must have been about five then?"

"Half-past five, as he used to say, and Dorette here was seven. Such a
houseful of babies!"

"Luckily I had not appeared on the scene then," laughed Camille. "I'm
afraid I was not a welcome guest."

Her mother turned fond, reproving eyes upon her, while Dodo broke in
between big mouthfuls of oatmeal and milk,

"But me was dere, jus' de same. Me 'members all about it."

"Oh, you remember more than the rest of us have forgotten!" cried her
auntie, catching the child's chubby arm and shaking little trills of
merriment out of her, at which the young father exclaimed with mock
savagery.

"Will you never leave that child alone, Gypsy? You're always squeezing
or pinching her."

"But I lubs her so!" with a shower of pats and punchings. "I could eat
her up."

"Better stick to your dinner--it's a good one! My wife is chef of this
establishment."

Dorette's soft eyes met his in a fond, merry glance.

"Thank you, Larry! You always appreciate good things."

"Don't I, though! But go on, mother. You were telling us about the
babies."

"You know it all as well as I. We loved little Joyce as our very own,
and when her father took her away--for somehow he never liked us, I
think because I once spoke too plainly about his neglect of his delicate
wife--when he took her to a woman he had engaged to look after her, she
moaned and cried in the most pitiful way, refusing all food and begging
day and night for 'ma mere,' as she had learned to call me. Nothing
would pacify her, and at length in desperation he brought her back. We
were poor then, but I did not receive her because of the board money he
would pay----"

"Did you keep it in a ginger-jar, Mother?" put in Larry, with a chuckle.
She caught his meaning quickly, and returned at once,

"I was about to add, because I knew from past experience there would be
little of it to hoard, even in a ginger-jar. James Early was not as
prompt a payer as collector," dryly. "No, I took back my baby because we
all missed her so, especially Leon, who had wailed all day and hal