decided to take the baby with them, they sped along home, and drew up in front of the house to find Nan and Mr. Fairfield on the verandah.
“Why, how do you do, Mr. Phelps?” cried Nan. “We’re very glad to see you. Come in. For gracious goodness’ sake, Patty, what have you got there?”
“This is Rosabel,” said Patty, gravely, as she held the baby up to view.
Chapter XIX.
Rosabel
“Rosabel who?” exclaimed Nan, as Patty came up on the verandah with the baby in her arms.
“I don’t know, I’m sure. You may call her Rosabel anything you like. We picked her up by the wayside.”
“Yes,” said Dick Phelps, who had followed Patty up the steps. “Miss Rosabel seemed lonely without anyone to talk to, so we brought her back here to visit you.”
“You must be crazy!” cried Nan, “but what a cunning baby it is! Let me take her.”
Nan took the good-natured little midget and sat down in a verandah rocker, with the baby in her arms.
“Tell a straight story, Patty,” said her father, “is it one of the neighbour’s children, or did you kidnap it?”
“Neither,” said Patty, turning to her father; “we found the baby lying right near the edge of a wood, in plain sight from the road. And there was nobody around, and Papa, I just know that the child’s wretch of a mother deserted it, and left it there to die!”
“Nonsense,” said her father. “Mothers don’t leave their little ones around as carelessly as that.”
“Well, what else could it be?” said Patty. “There was the baby all alone, smiling and talking to herself, and no one anywhere near, although we waited for some time.”
“It does seem strange,” said Mr. Fairfield, “perhaps the mother did mean to desert the child, but if so, she was probably peeping from some hiding-place, to make sure that she approved of the people who took it.”
“Well,” said Mr. Phelps, “she evidently thought we were all right; at any rate she made no objection.”
“But isn’t it awful,” said Nan, “to think of anybody deserting a dear little thing like this. Why, the wild animals might have eaten her up.”
“Of course they might,” said Mr. Phelps, gravely, “the tigers and wolves that abound on Long Island are of the most ferocious type.”
“Well, anyway,” said Patty, “something dreadful might have happened to her.”
“It may yet,” said Mr. Phelps cheerfully, “when we take her back to-morrow and put her in the place we found her. For I don’t suppose you intend to keep Miss Rosabel, do you?”
“I don’t know,” said Patty, “but I know one thing, we certainly won’t put her back where we found her. What shall we do with her, Papa?”
“I don’t know, my child, she’s your find, and I suppose it’s a case of ‘findings is keepings.’”
“Of course we can’t keep her,” said Patty, “how ridiculous! We’ll have to put her in an orphan asylum or something like that.”
“It’s a shame,” said Nan, “to put this dear little mite in a horrid old asylum. I think I shall adopt her myself.”
Little Rosabel had begun to grow restless, and suddenly without a word of warning she began to cry lustily, and not a quiet well-conducted cry either, but with ear-splitting shrieks and yells, indicative of great discomfort of some sort.
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Nan, abruptly. “I don’t want to adopt any such noisy young person as that. Here, take her, Patty, she’s your property.”
Patty took the baby, and carried her into the house, fearing that passers-by would think they must be torturing the child to make her scream like that.
Into the dining-room went Patty, and on to the kitchen, where she announced to the astonished cook that she wanted some milk for the baby and she wanted it quick.
“Is there company for dinner, Miss Patty?” asked the cook, not understanding how a baby could have arrived as an only guest.
“Only this one,” said Patty, laughing, “what do you think she ought to eat?”
“Bread and milk,” said the cook, looking at the child with a judicial air.
“All right, Kate, fix her some, won’t you?”
In a few moments Patty was feeding Rosabel bread and milk, which the child ate eagerly.
Impelled by curiosity, Nan came tip-toeing to the kitchen, followed by the two men.
“I thought she must be asleep,” said Nan, “as the concert seems to have stopped.”
“Not at all,” said Patty, calmly, “she was only hungry, and the fact seemed to occur to her somewhat suddenly.”
Little Rosabel, all smiles again, looked up from her supper with such bewitching glances that Nan cried out, “Oh, she is a darling! Let me help you feed her, Patty.”
In fact they all succumbed to the charm of their uninvited guest. During dinner Rosabel sat at the table, in a chair filled with pillows, and was made happy by being given many dainty bits of various delicacies, until Nan declared the child would certainly be ill.
“I don’t believe she is more than a year old,” said Nan, “and she’s probably unaccustomed to those rich cakes and bonbons.”
“I think she’s more than a year,” said Patty, sagely, “and anyway, I want her to have a good time for once.”
“She seems to be having the time of her life,” said Dick Phelps, as he watched the baby, who with a macaroon in one hand, and some candied cherries in the other, was smiling impartially on them all.
“She’s not much of a conversationalist,” remarked Mr. Fairfield.
“Give her time,” said Patty, “she feels a little strange at first.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Phelps, “I think after two or three years she’ll be much more talkative.”
“Well, there’s one thing certain,” said Patty, “she’ll have to stay here to-night, whatever we do with her to-morrow.”
After dinner they took their new toy with them to the parlour, and Miss Rosabel treated them all to a few more winning smiles, and then quietly, but very decidedly fell asleep in Patty’s arms.
“I can’t help admiring her decision of character,” said Patty, as she shook the baby to make her awaken, but without success.
“Don’t wake her up,” said Nan. “Come, Patty, we’ll take her upstairs, and put her to bed somewhere.”
This feat being accomplished, Nan and Patty rejoined the men, who sat smoking on the front verandah.
“Now,” said Patty, “we really must decide what we’re going to do with that infant; for I warn you, Papa Fairfield, that if we keep that dear baby around much longer, I shall become so attached to her that I can’t give her up.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Fairfield, “she must be turned over to the authorities. I’ll attend to it the first thing in the morning.”
A little later Mr. Fairfield and Nan strolled down the road to make a call on a neighbour, and Patty and Dick Phelps remained at home.
Patty had declared she