"But how did they get there?" he demanded.
"God sent them, just as he sends babies of all sorts."
"Did he send me?"
"Of course."
"That's a good one on you, Harry. My father found me in a hollow
tree."
"But don't you think God had something to do with it?"
Jimmy pondered this.
"I suppose," he reflected, "God sent Daddy to find me so that I
would be his little boy. You never happened to see any babies
when you were out walking, did you, Harry?"
"Not in stumps--but I probably wasn't looking."
Jimmy eyed her with sympathy.
"You may some day. Would you like to have one?"
"Very much," said Harmony, and flushed delightfully.
Jimmy was disposed to press the matter, to urge immediate
maternity on her.
"You could lay it here on the bed," he offered, "and I'd watch
it. When they yell you let 'em suck your finger. I knew a woman
once that had a baby and she did that. And it could watch
Isabella." Isabella was the mother mouse. "And when I'm better I
could take it walking."
"That," said Harmony gravely, "is mighty fine of you, Jimmy boy.
I--I'll think about it." She never denied Jimmy anything, so now
she temporized.
"I'll ask Peter."
Harmony had a half-hysterical moment; then:
"Wouldn't it be better," she asked, "to keep anything of that
sort a secret? And to surprise Peter?"
The boy loved a secret. He played with it in lieu of other
occupation. His uncertain future was sown thick with secrets that
would never flower into reality.
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