Baby was fretful, and though Billy usually laid him in his crib and unhesitatingly left the room, insisting that he should go to sleep by himself in accordance with the most approved rules in her Scientific Training; yet to-night she could not bring herself to the point of leaving the house until he was quiet.

Hurried as they were when they did start, Billy was conscious of Bertram's frowning disapproval of her frock.
"You don't like it, of course, dear, and I don't blame you," she smiled remorsefully.
"Oh, I like it--that is, I did, when it was new," rejoined her husband, with apologetic frankness.

"But, dear, didn't you have anything else?
This looks almost--well, mussy, you know." "No--well, yes, maybe there were others," admitted Billy; "but this was the quickest and easiest to get into, and it all came just as I was getting Baby ready for bed, you know.

I am a fright, though, I'll acknowledge, so far as clothes go.

I haven't had time to get a thing since Baby came.