All he had, all he owned, he valued only for the pleasure it might mean to them.
"Darling," he said, as she finished the tale, "what do _you_ think about it all ?" "Mona's been talking to you!" Patty cried, with sudden intuition.
"What! How do you know?
You clair-voyant!" "Of course I know," and Patty wagged a wise head at him.

"First, because you're not sufficiently surprised,--she told you all about it! And second, because you're not furious at Azalea! Mona has talked you around to her way of thinking,--which is, that Azalea is a genius,--and that--" "That Fleurette is another! Think of being on the screen at the tender age of six months!" "You're a wretch! you're a monster! you're a--a--dromedary!" Patty was feeling decidedly better about the whole matter.

Having sat for nearly an hour, holding and fondling her idolised child, she realised that whatever Fleurette had gone through, she was safe now,--and that whatever was to be done to Azalea by way of punishment, was more Bill's affair than hers.
"You don't care two cents for your wonder-child! Your own little buttercup,--your daffy-downdilly baby!" she cried, in pretended reproof, and then Farnsworth took Fleurette and tossed her about until she squealed with glee.
"Oh, I guess we'll keep her," he said, as he handed her back to her mother's arms.

"She's the paragon baby of the whole world, even if I don't appreciate her." "Oh, you do! you _do_!" exclaimed Patty, remorseful now at having teased him.

"And now, Sweet William, what's _your_ idea of a right and proper punishment for Cousin Azalea ?" "That's a matter for some thought," he responded, mindful of Mona's words.