flung out
her hand toward her in desperate appeal.

"Couldn't you--could you jest wait till he sees Danny?" she faltered.

Mary ran down the remaining steps and laid her white hand on Shandon's.

"If it was ten weddings, we'd wait, Shandon!" said she, her voice
thrilling with the fellowship of wifehood and motherhood to come.
"Don't worry, Shandon. Arnold will fix him. Poor little Danny!" said
Mary, bending over him. "He's not awful sick, is he, Arnold? Mother,"
she said, turning, royally flushed, to her stupefied mother, "every
one'll have to wait. Johnnie and Arnold are going to fix up Shandon's
baby."

"I don't see the slightest need of traipsing over to the hotel," said
Mrs. Dickey, almost offended, as at a slight upon her hospitality.
"Take him right up to the spare room, Arnold. There ain't no noise
there, it's in the wing. And one of you chil'ren run and tell Aggie we
want hot water, and--what else? Well, go ahead and tell her that,
anyway."

"Leave me carry him up," said one big, gentle father, who had tucked
his own baby up only an hour ago. "I've got a kimmoner in my bag," old
Mrs. Lowell said to Shandon. "It's a-plenty big enough for you. You git
dry and comfortable before you hold him." "Shucks! Lloydy ate a green
cherry when he wasn't but four months old," said one consoling voice to
Shandon. "He's got a lot of fight in him," said another. "My Olive got
an inch screw in her throat," contributed a third. Mrs. Larabee said in
a low tone, with her hand tight upon Shandon's shaking one, "He'll be
jest about fagged out when the doctor's done with him, dearie, and as
hungry as a hunter. Don't YOU git excited, or he'll be sick all over
again."

Crowding solicitously about her, the women got her upstairs and into
dry clothing. This was barely accomplished when Mary Dickey came into
the room, in a little blue cotton gown, to take her to Danny.

"Arnold says he's got him crying, and that's a good sign, Shandon,"
said Mary. "And he says that rough walk pro'bly saved him."

Shandon tried to speak again, but failed again, and the two girls went
out together. Mary presently came back alone, and the lessened but not
uncheerful group downstairs settled down to a vigil. Various reports
drifted from the sick-room, but it was almost midnight before Mrs.
Larabee came down with definite news.

"How is he?" echoed Johnnie, sinking into a chair. "Give me a cup of
that coffee, Mary. That's a good girl. Well, say, it loo