Marjorie's Busy Days Part 26

"Very well, Mildred. You take off her wraps, and I'll ask Sarah to warm some milk for her."

Mrs. Maynard went to speak to Sarah, and Mrs. Harrison lifted the sleeping baby from the carriage.

She sat the blinking-eyed child on her knee while she unfastened her coat. Then she took off the veil and cap, and then,--she stared at the baby, and the baby stared at her.

Suddenly Mrs. Harrison gave a scream.

"Helen, Helen!" she called to her friend, and Mrs. Maynard came running to her side.

"What _is_ the matter, Mildred? Is Totty ill?"

By this time the baby too had begun to scream. Always afraid of strangers, Miss Dotty Curtis didn't know what to make of the scenes in which she found herself, nor of the strange lady who held her.

"Mildred, dear, what is the matter? You look horror-stricken! And what ails Totty?"

"This isn't my child!" wailed Mrs. Harrison.

"Totty isn't your child! What _do_ you mean?"

"But this isn't, Totty! It isn't my baby! I don't know who it is."

"Mildred, you're crazy! Of course this is Totty. These are her blue kid shoes. And this is her coat and cap."

"I don't care if they are! It isn't Totty at all. Oh, where is my baby?"

Mrs. Harrison was on the verge of hysterics, and Mrs. Maynard was genuinely alarmed.

"Behave yourself, Mildred!" she said, sternly. "Gather yourself together. Here, sip this gla.s.s of water."

"I'm perfectly sensible," said Mrs. Harrison, quieting down a little, as she noticed her friend's consternation. "But I tell you, Helen, this is _not_ my baby. Doesn't a mother know her own child? Totty's hair is a little longer, and her eyes are a little larger. I don't know who this baby is, but she isn't mine."

"I believe you're right," said Mrs. Maynard, looking more closely at the screaming baby.

"There, there!" she said, taking the frightened little one in her own arms.

"Ma-ma!" cried the baby.

"Hear her voice!" exclaimed Mrs. Harrison. "That isn't the way my Totty talks. Oh, Helen, what has happened?"

"I don't know," said Mrs. Maynard, her face very white. "It doesn't seem possible that any marauder should have slipped into the house and put this child in Totty's place. Why, it was only about a half-hour ago that the girls brought Totty in. Mildred, are you _sure_ this isn't Totty?"

"Am I sure! Yes, I am. Wouldn't you know your own children from strangers? Helen, a dreadful crime has been committed. Somehow this baby has been subst.i.tuted for mine. Oh, Totty, where _are_ you now?"

"What shall I do, Mildred? Shall I call up Mr. Maynard on the telephone, or shall I ring up the police station?"

"Yes, call the police. It's dreadful, I know, but how else can we find Totty?"

Meantime Sarah appeared with a cup of warm milk.

The baby stretched out eager little hands, and Mrs. Maynard carefully held the cup for her to drink.

"She's a nice little thing," observed that lady. "See how prettily she behaves."

"Helen, you'll drive me crazy. I don't care how she behaves, she isn't Totty. Why, that isn't even Totty's little dress. So you see the kidnapper did change her shoes and wraps, but not her frock."

Mrs. Harrison showed signs of hysterics, and Mrs. Maynard was at her wits' end what to do.

"I suppose I'd better call the police," she said. "Here, Mildred, you hold this baby."

Mrs. Harrison gingerly took the baby that wasn't hers, and looked like a martyr as she held her.

But comforted by the warm food, the baby pleasantly cuddled up in Mrs.

Harrison's arms and went to sleep.

Mrs. Maynard, greatly puzzled, went to the telephone, but before she touched it there was a furious peal at the front-door bell.

The moment the door was opened, in rushed a pretty, but frantic and very angry, little lady, carrying a child.

"Where's my baby?" she demanded, as she fairly stamped her foot at Mrs.

Maynard.

"That's my child!" she went on, turning to Mrs. Harrison. "What are you doing with her?"

"I don't want her!" cried Mrs. Harrison. "But what are _you_ doing with _my_ baby?"

Totty, in the visitor's arms, held out her hands to her mother, and gurgled with glee.

"Ma-ma!" said the other baby, waking up at all this commotion and holding out her hands also.

The exchange was made in a moment, and, still unpacified, Mrs. Harrison and Mrs. Curtis glared at each other.

Mrs. Maynard struggled to suppress her laughter, for the scene was a funny one; but she knew the two ladies were thoroughly horrified at the mystery, and mirth would be quite out of place.

"Let me introduce you," she said. "Mrs. Curtis, this is my dear friend, Mrs. Harrison. Your little ones are the same age, and look very much alike."

"Not a bit alike," said both mothers, at once.

"I confess," went on Mrs. Maynard, "that I can't understand it at all, but you certainly each have your own babies now; so, my dear Mrs.

Curtis, won't you tell me what you know about this very strange affair?"

Mrs. Curtis had recovered her equilibrium, and, as she sat comfortably holding Dotty, she smiled, with a little embarra.s.sment.

"Dear Mrs. Maynard," she said, "I'm afraid I understand it all better than you do; but I'm also afraid, if I explain it to you, you will,--it will make----"

Suddenly Mrs. Maynard saw a gleam of light.

"Marjorie!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," said Mrs. Curtis; "I think it was due to Miss Mischief. When I returned home from an errand, Lisa said that your Marjorie and Gladys Fulton had had Dotty out in her carriage, and had also another baby who was visiting you. The girls had left Dotty--or rather, Lisa supposed it was Dotty--asleep in her coach, and Nurse let her stay there, asleep, until my return. Then the child wakened--and it wasn't Dotty at all! The baby had on Dot's slippers, cap, coat, and veil, but the rest of her clothes I had never seen before. I felt sure there had been foul play of some sort, but Lisa was sure those girls had exchanged the babies'