Billy looked at Margaret. "She don't!" he said. "She'd be glad if it
would get me 'softly,' right now. She don't want me here 't all."

Elnora smothered his face against her breast and rocked.

"You love me, don't you?"

"I will, if you will go to sleep."

"Every single day you will give me your dinner for the bologna, won't
you," said Billy.

"Yes, I will," replied Elnora. "But you will have as good lunch as I do
after this. You will have milk, eggs, chicken, all kinds of good things,
little pies, and cakes, maybe."

Billy shook his head. "I am going back home soon as it is light," he
said, "she don't want me. She thinks I'm a bad boy. She's going to whip
me--if he lets her. She said so. I heard her. Oh, I wish he hadn't died!
I want to go home." Billy shrieked again.

Mrs. Comstock had started to walk slowly to meet Elnora. The girl had
been so late that her mother reached the Sinton gate and followed the
path until the picture inside became visible. Elnora had told her about
Wesley taking Billy home. Mrs. Comstock had some curiosity to see how
Margaret bore the unexpected addition to her family. Billy's voice,
raised with excitement, was plainly audible. She could see Elnora
holding him, and hear his excited wail. Wesley's face was drawn and
haggard, and Margaret's set and defiant. A very imp of perversity