instantly. Celestine, take baby." But Celestine had vanished.
"Give me the baby, Ruth, and go by all means. Then we can restore quiet
to this side of the house at least,"--and she took with firm hands the
shrieking infant from the mother's arms. Mrs. Forrest rushed down the
hall and melodramatically precipitated herself upon her offspring in
the dining-room. In two minutes' time the baby's wailings ceased, and
when Mrs. Forrest reappeared, ready to resume the attack after having
released the prisoners, she was surprised and, it must be recorded, not
especially pleased to see her lately inconsolable infant laughing,
crowing, and actually beaming with happiness in her sister-in-law's
arms.
"I suppose you've been feeding that child sugar," she said, as she
stopped short at the threshold.
"The sugar is in the dining-room, Ruth, not here."
"Well, candy, then, and you know I'd as soon you gave her poison."
"And yet you sent Celestine to my room for some for this very baby
yesterday."
"I didn't!"
"Then, as I have told you more than once, Ruth, Celestine's statements
are unreliable. I found her in my room, and she said you sent her for
some candy for little Hal, and I gave it to her. I do not at all like
her going to my room when I'm not there."
"You are down on Celestine simply because she is mine, and you know it,
Fanny. It is so with everything,--everybody that is at all dear to me.
That is enough to set you against them. My dear old father rescued
Celestine from bondage when she was a mere baby (a favorite paraphrase
of Mrs. Forrest's for describing the fact that one of that damsel's
parents had officiated as cook at a Southern hospital where the
chaplain happened to be on duty in the war-days). Her mother lives with
his people to this hour, and she has grown up under my eyes and been my
handmaiden, and the nurse of all my children, and never a word has any
one ever breathed against her until you came; and you are always doing
it."
"Pardon me, Ruth. I have only twice referred to what I consider her
shortcomings. She was very neglectful of you and the children at
Robinson, and was perpetually going out in the evening with that
soldier in Captain Terry's troop, and now she is getting to be as great
a gad-about here. That, however, is none of my affair, but it is my
right to say that I do not want her prowling about among the trunks and
boxes in my room, and if you do not exert your authority over her I
mu
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