Baby Mine

by Margaret Mayo

  CHAPTER XX

  With more or less damage to himself consequent on his excitement, Alfredcompleted his shaving and hastened to return to his wife and the babe.Finding the supposedly ill Zoie careering about the centre of the roomexpostulating with Aggie, the young man stopped dumbfounded on thethreshold.

  "Zoie," he cried in astonishment. "What are you doing out of bed?"

  For an instant the startled Zoie gazed at him stupefied.

  "Why, I--I----" Her eyes sought Aggie's for a suggestion; there was noanswer there. It was not until her gaze fell upon the cradle that shewas seized by the desired inspiration.

  "I just got up to see baby," she faltered, then putting one hand giddilyto her head, she pretended to sway.

  In an instant Alfred's arms were about her. He bore her quickly to thebed. "You stay here, my darling," he said tenderly. "I'll bring babyto you," and after a solicitous caress he turned toward baby's crib andbent fondly over the little one. "Ah, there's father's man," he said."Was he lonesome baby? Oh, goodis g'acious," then followed an incoherentmuttering of baby talk, as he bore the youngster toward Zoie's bed."Come, my precious," he called to Zoie, as he sank down on the edge ofthe bed. "See mother's boy."

  "Mother!" shrieked Zoie in horror. It had suddenly dawned upon her thatthis was the name by which Alfred would no doubt call her for the restof her life. She almost detested him.

  But Alfred did not see the look of disgust on Zoie's face. He was whollyabsorbed by baby.

  "What a funny face," he cooed as he pinched the youngster's cheek."Great Scott, what a grip," he cried as the infant's fingers closedaround his own. "Will you look at the size of those hands," heexclaimed.

  Zoie and Aggie exchanged worried glances; the baby had no doubtinherited his large hands from his mother.

  "Say, Aggie," called Alfred, "what are all of these little speckson baby's forehead?" He pointed toward the infant's brow. "One, two,three," he counted.

  Zoie was becoming more and more uncomfortable at the close proximity ofthe little stranger.

  "Oh," said Aggie, with affected carelessness as she leaned over Alfred'sshoulder and glanced at baby's forehead. "That is just a little rash."

  "A rash!" exclaimed Alfred excitedly, "that's dangerous, isn't it? We'dbetter call up the doctor." And he rose and started hurriedly toward thetelephone, baby in arms.

  "Don't be silly," called Zoie, filled with vague alarm at the thought ofthe family physician's appearance and the explanations that this mightentail.

  Stepping between Alfred and the 'phone, Aggie protested frantically."You see, Alfred," she said, "it is better to have the rash OUT, itwon't do any harm unless it turns IN."

  "He's perfectly well," declared Zoie, "if you'll only put him in hiscrib and leave him alone."

  Alfred looked down at his charge. "Is that right, son?" he asked, and hetickled the little fellow playfully in the ribs. "I'll tell you what,"he called over his shoulder to Zoie, "he's a fine looking boy." And thenwith a mysterious air, he nodded to Aggie to approach. "Whom does helook like?" he asked.

  Again Zoie sat up in anxiety. Aggie glanced at her, uncertain whatanswer to make.

  "I--I hadn't thought," she stammered weakly.

  "Go on, go on," exclaimed the proud young father, "you can't tell methat you can look at that boy and not see the resemblance."

  "To whom?" asked Aggie, half fearfully.

  "Why," said Alfred, "he's the image of Zoie."

  Zoie gazed at the puckered red face in Alfred's arms. "What!" sheshrieked in disgust, then fall back on her pillows and drew the lacecoverlet over her face.

  Mistaking Zoie's feeling for one of embarrassment at being over-praised,Alfred bore the infant to her bedside. "See, dear," he persisted, "seefor yourself, look at his forehead."

  "I'd rather look at you," pouted Zoie, peeping from beneath thecoverlet, "if you would only put that thing down for a minute."

  "Thing?" exclaimed Alfred, as though doubting his own ears. But beforehe could remonstrate further, Zoie's arms were about his neck and shewas pleading jealously for his attention.

  "Please, Alfred," she begged, "I have scarcely had a look at you, yet."

  Alfred shook his head and turned to baby with an indulgent smile. It waspleasant to have two such delightful creatures bidding for his entireattention.

  "Dear me," he said to baby. "Dear me, tink of mudder wanting to look ata big u'gy t'ing like fadder, when she could look at a 'itty witty t'inglike dis," and he rose and crossed to the crib where he deposited thesmall creature with yet more gurgling and endearing.

  Zoie's dreams of rapture at Alfred's home coming had not included suchdivided attention as he was now showing her and she was growing more andmore desperate at the turn affairs had taken. She resolved to put a stopto his nonsense and to make him realise that she and no one else was thelode star of his existence. She beckoned to Aggie to get out of theroom and to leave her a clear field and as soon as her friend had gonequietly into the next room, she called impatiently to Alfred who wasstill cooing rapturously over the young stranger. Finding Alfred deafto her first entreaty, Zoie shut her lips hard, rearranged her prettyhead-dress, drew one fascinating little curl down over her shoulder,reknotted the pink ribbon of her negligee, and then issued a final andimperious order for her husband to attend her.

  "Yes, yes, dear," answered Alfred, with a shade of impatience. "I'mcoming, I'm coming." And bidding a reluctant farewell to the smallperson in the crib, he crossed to her side.

  Zoie caught Alfred's hand and drew him down to her; he smiledcomplacently.

  "Well," he said in the patronising tone that Zoie always resented. "Howis hubby's little girl?"

  "It's about time," pouted Zoie, "that you made a little fuss over me fora change."

  "My own!" murmured Alfred. He stooped to kiss the eager lips, but justas his young wife prepared to lend herself to his long delayed embrace,his mind was distracted by an uneasy thought. "Do you think that Babyis----"

  He was not permitted to finish the sentence.

  Zoie drew him back to her with a sharp exclamation.

  "Think of ME for a while," she commanded.

  "My darling," expostulated Alfred with a shade of surprise at hervehemence. "How could I think of anyone else?" Again he stooped toembrace her and again his mind was directed otherwise. "I wonder if Babyis warm enough," he said and attempted to rise.

  "Wonder about ME for a while," snapped Zoie, clinging to himdeterminedly.

  Again Alfred looked at her in amazement. Was it possible there wasanything besides Baby worth wondering about? Whether there was or not,Zoie was no longer to be resisted and with a last regretful look at thecrib, he resigned himself to giving his entire attention to his spoiledyoung wife.

  Gratified by her hard-won conquest, Zoie now settled herself in Alfred'sarms.

  "You haven't told me what you did all the time that you were away," shereminded him.

  "Oh, there was plenty to do," answered Alfred.

  "Did you think of me every minute?" she asked jealously.

  "That would be telling," laughed Alfred, as he pinched her small pinkear.

  "I wish to be 'told,'" declared Zoie; "I don't suppose you realise it,but if I were to live a THOUSAND YEARS, I'd never be quite sure what youdid during those FEW MONTHS."

  "It was nothing that you wouldn't have been proud of," answered Alfred,with an unconscious expansion of his chest.

  "Do you love me as much as ever?" asked Zoie.

  "Behave yourself," answered Alfred, trying not to appear flatteredby the discovery that his absence had undoubtedly caused her greatuneasiness.

  "Well, SAY it!" demanded Zoie.

  "You know I do," answered Alfred, with the diffidence of a school boy.

  "Then kiss me," concluded Zoie, with an air of finality that left Alfredno alternative.

  As a matter of fact, Alfred was no longer seeking an alternative. He wasagain under the spell of his wife's adorable charms and he kissed hernot once,
but many times.

  "Foolish child," he murmured, then he laid her tenderly against thelarge white pillows, remonstrating with her for being so spoiled, andcautioning her to be a good little girl while he went again to see aboutBaby.

  Zoie clung to his hand and feigned approaching tears.

  "You aren't thinking of me at all?" she pouted. "And kisses are nogood unless you put your whole mind on them. Give me a real kiss!" shepleaded.

  Again Alfred stooped to humour the small importunate person who was sojealous of his every thought, but just as his lips touched her foreheadhis ear was arrested by a sound as yet new both to him and to Zoie. Helifted his head and listened.

  "What was that?" he asked.

  "I don't know," answered Zoie, wondering if the cat could have got intothe room.

  A redoubled effort on the part of the young stranger directed theirattention in the right direction.

  "My God!" exclaimed Alfred tragically, "it's Baby. He's crying." Andwith that, he rushed to the crib and clasped the small mite close to hisbreast, leaving Zoie to pummel the pillows in an agony of vexation.

  After vain cajoling of the angry youngster, Alfred bore him excitedly toZoie's bedside.

  "You'd better take him, dear," he said.

  To the young husband's astonishment, Zoie waved him from her in terror,and called loudly for Aggie. But no sooner had Aggie appeared on thescene, than a sharp whistle was heard from the pavement below.

  "Pull down the shade!" cried Zoie frantically.

  Aggie hastened toward the window.

  Attributing Zoie's uneasiness to a caprice of modesty, Alfred turnedfrom the cradle to reassure her.

  "No one can see in way up here," he said.

  To Zoie's distress, the lowering of the shade was answered by a yetshriller whistle from the street below.

  "Was it 'up' or 'down'?" cried Zoie to Aggie in an agony of doubt, asshe tried to recall her instructions to Jimmy.

  "I don't know," answered Aggie. "I've forgotten."

  Another impatient whistle did not improve their memory. Alarmed byZoie's increasing excitement, and thinking she was troubled merely bya sick woman's fancy that someone might see through the window, Alfredplaced the babe quickly in its cradle and crossed to the young wife'sbed.

  "It was up, dear," he said. "You had Aggie put it down."

  "Then I want it up," declared the seemingly perverse Zoie.

  "But it was up," argued Alfred.

  A succession of emotional whistles set Zoie to pounding the pillows.

  "Put it down!" she commanded.

  "But Zoie----" protested Alfred.

  "Did I say 'up' or did I say 'down'?" moaned the half-demented Zoie,while long whistles and short whistles, appealing whistles and impatientwhistles followed each other in quick succession.

  "You said down, dear," persisted Alfred, now almost as distracted as hiswife.

  Zoie waved him from the room. "I wish you'd get out of here," she cried;"you make me so nervous that I can't think at all."

  "Of course, dear," murmured Alfred, "if you wish it." And with a hurtand perplexed expression on his face he backed quickly from the room.