The small head
was clasped in two little fists, as the child tore at her yellow curls,
her infant soul stirred to indignation and fright at this most
unexpected treatment. Suddenly Charlotte seized her again and bore her
swiftly away to Captain Rayburn's room.
"Take care of her for an hour? Surely. But what's the matter?"
It was small wonder he asked, for Charlotte's face was white, her eyes
brilliant, and her lips quivering as she spoke:
"It's nothing--only baby has spoiled something of mine, and I'm so angry
I don't dare trust myself with her."
She dropped little Ellen in his arms and fled, leaving her uncle to
think what he might. He looked grave as he soothed the baby, whose small
breast still heaved convulsively.
"Are you conscientiously trying to do your full share in developing our
little second fiddle's capacity to play first?" he asked the baby, with
his face against hers. "Never mind, little one, never mind. Baby doesn't
know--but John Rayburn does--that this being a means of education to
other people is a thankless task sometimes. Don't cry. Aunty Charlotte
will kiss her hard and fast by and by, to make up for losing her temper
with the little maid.
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