s, but there doesn't seem to be any help for it
because the doctor says if I let myself get tired it will be bad for the
baby. Of course I wouldn't put my own health before his comfort, but I
am obliged to think first of the baby, am I not? Last night, for
instance, the poor little thing was ill with colic and I was up and down
with her until daybreak. Then this morning she woke early and I had to
nurse her and give her her bath, and, added to everything else, Daisy's
cousin died and she sent word she couldn't come. I slipped on a wrapper
before taking a bath or fixing my hair and ran down to try and get
Oliver's breakfast, but the baby began to cry and he came after me and
said he wanted to make the coffee himself. Then he brought a cup
upstairs to me, but I was so tired and nervous that I couldn't drink it.
He didn't seem to understand why, feeling as badly as I did, I wouldn't
just put the baby back into her crib and make her stay there until I got
some rest, but the little thing was so wide awake that I hadn't the
heart to do it. Besides, it is so important to keep regular hours with
her, isn't it? I don't suppose a man ever realizes how a woman looks at
these things, but you will understand, won't you, mother?

I am all alone in the house to-night because a play is in town that
Oliver wanted to see and I made him go to it. He wanted to ask Mrs.
Midden to sit downstairs (she has offered over and over again to do it)
so that I might go too, but of course I wouldn't let him. I really
couldn't have enjoyed it a minute for thinking of the baby, and besides
I never cared for the theatre. Then, too, he doesn't know (for I never
tell him) how very tired I am by the time night comes. Sometimes when
Oliver comes home and we sit in the dining-room (we never use the
drawing-room, because it is across the hall and I'm afraid I shouldn't
hear the baby cry) it is as much as I can do to keep my eyes open. I try
not to let him notice it, but one night when he read me the first act of
a play he is writing, I went to sleep, and though he didn't say
anything, I could see that he was very much hurt. He worries a good deal
about my health, too, and he even went out one day and engaged a nurse
without saying anything to me about it. After I had talked to her
though, I saw that she would never do, so I sent her away before he came
home. I wish I could get really strong and feel well again, but the
doctor insists I never will until I get ou