“Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be. The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. “I suppose I shall have to write an answer. "My stars! here's a pretty lullaby-cheat to make a fuss about—ho! ho!" "Deal with me as you think proper, gentlemen," exclaimed Wood; "but, for mercy's sake don't harm the child! Let it be taken to its mother.
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