At that moment, too, Aunt Hannah came in from the street, so Billy could say no more.
Aunt Hannah dropped herself a little wearily into a chair.
"I've just come from Marie's," she said.
"How is she ?" asked Billy.
Aunt Hannah smiled, and raised her eyebrows.
"Well, just now she's quite exercised over another rattle--from her cousin out West, this time.

There were four little silver bells on it, and she hasn't got any janitor's wife now to give it to." Billy laughed softly, but Aunt Hannah had more to say.
"You know she isn't going to allow any toys but Teddy bears and woolly lambs, of which, I believe, she has already bought quite an assortment.
She says they don't rattle or squeak.

I declare, when I see the woolen pads and rubber hushers that that child has put everywhere all over the house, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

And she's so worried! It seems Cyril must needs take just this time to start composing a new opera or symphony, or something; and never before has she allowed him to be interrupted by anything on such an occasion.

But what he'll do when the baby comes she says she doesn't know, for she says she can't--she just can't keep it from bothering him some, she's afraid.