But this baby--" "_This_ baby is _mine_, please," cut in a tremulous, but resolute voice; and Mrs.Hartwell turned to confront Bertram, Jr.'s mother, manifestly weak and trembling, but no less manifestly blazing-eyed and determined.
"Why, Billy!" expostulated Mrs.Hartwell, as Billy stumbled forward and snatched the child into her arms.
"Perhaps he doesn't look like the Henshaw babies.

Perhaps he isn't as pretty as the twins.

Perhaps he hasn't much hair, and does have a snub nose.

He's my baby just the same, and I shall not stay calmly by and see him abused! Besides, _I_ think he's prettier than the twins ever thought of being; and he's got all the hair I want him to have, and his nose is just exactly what a baby's nose ought to be!" And, with a superb gesture, Billy turned and bore the baby away..