Dear Enemy

That child's whole future hung upon five minutes of sunniness, and

instead of a single smile, she WHINED!

Mr. Bretland shook her hand in a very gingerly fashion and chirruped to

her as you might to a pup. Sophie took not the slightest notice of him,

but turned her back, and buried her face in my neck. He shrugged his

shoulders, supposed that they could take her on trial. She might suit

his wife; he himself didn't want one, anyway. And we turned to go out.

Then who should come toddling straight across his path but that little

sunbeam Allegra! Exactly in front of him she staggered, threw her arms

about like a windmill, and plumped down on all fours. He hopped aside

with great agility to avoid stepping on her, and then picked her up and

set her on her feet. She clasped her arms about his leg, and looked up

at him with a gurgling laugh.

"Daddy! Frow baby up!"

He is the first man, barring the doctor, whom the child has seen for

weeks, and evidently he resembles somewhat her almost forgotten father.

J. F. Bretland picked her up and tossed her in the air as handily as

though it were a daily occurrence, while she ecstatically shrieked her

delight. Then when he showed signs of lowering her, she grasped him by

an ear and a nose, and drummed a tattoo on his stomach with both feet.

No one could ever accuse Allegra of lacking vitality!

J. F. disentangled himself from her endearments, and emerged, rumpled as

to hair, but with a firm-set jaw. He set her on her feet, but retained

her little doubled-up fist.

"This is the kid for me," he said. "I don't believe I need to look any

further."

I explained that we couldn't separate little Allegra from her brothers;

but the more I objected, the stubborner his jaw became. We went back to

the library, and argued about it for half an hour.

He liked her heredity, he liked her looks, he liked her spirit, he liked

HER. If he was going to have a daughter foisted on him, he wanted one

with some ginger. He'd be hanged if he'd take that other whimpering

little thing. It wasn't natural. But if I gave him Allegra, he would

bring her up as his own child, and see that she was provided for for the

rest of her life. Did I have any right to cut her out from all that just

for a lot of sentimental nonsense? The family was already broken up; the

best I could do for them now was to provide for them individually. "Take

all three," said I, quite brazenly.