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“Florence! You cruel, heartless girl!”
Daisy held the baby close up in her arms, as if she were afraid it might understand the cold-blooded remark, and be hurt.
“But Daisy, we can’t afford to pay somebody to take care of it—to assume its support. Neither one of our families is rich enough. And you certainly don’t expect to lug it with us back to Miss Allen’s?”
“No,” admitted the other, smiling at the absurdity of such an idea. She was almost beginning to regret her action, viewed from Florence’s common-sense point of view. “Will your mother be angry?”
“No; she and Edith will both think you were wonderful to do it. They’re both dipped on the charity stuff.”
Daisy breathed a sigh of relief; it was something to have Mrs. Evans’s and her oldest daughter’s approval of her impetuosity.
The girls were greeted at the door by all the members of the Evans family. Edith had noticed the taxi from the window, had seen Daisy’s bundle which she identified as a baby, and had rushed out in breathless curiosity.