“Oh?” Abby said. “May I see her?”
“Sleeping,” Katy said.
“Ah, then I will speak very softly,” Abby said. “May I see?”
And his daughter stepped right out of her hiding place and reached up a hand for Abby’s before taking her to a doll’s cradle nearby. “Sleeping,” she said, pointing and turning her head for a swift peep at Gil.
“Ah, yes, so she is,” Abby said softly. “She is warmly tucked up beneath her blanket. We must not wake her.”
Katy peeped again and pointed. “Papa,” she said.
“Yes,” Abby said. “He has come to see you and now he is shy. Just like you were a little while ago. Should he go and hide behind your nurse, do you suppose?”
“No-o!” And Gil’s heart stopped again as his daughter laughed, a child’s delighted giggle. She pointed again. “Papa has an ow?”
“On his face?” Abby said.
“An ow,” Katy said again.
“It was a big ow,” Gil said. “But it is better now.”
“Papa cry?” Katy asked Abby.
“A whole pailful of tears,” he told her. “Then the ow went away. But this stayed.” He pointed to his facial scar.
“Kiss better?” Katy asked.
“Do you want to try it?” Abby asked, but the child shook her head vigorously and half hid behind her.
“Give her time, sir,” Mrs. Evans said.
“I have a dog,” Gil said.
“Puppy?” An eye peeped at him again, and then the whole of her came into sight as Abby moved beside her and smoothed a hand over her hair.
“Abigpuppy,” Gil said, showing Beauty’s height with his hand. “A great, big softie. She likes children. She likes to shake hands and she likes to stand still to have her head patted.”
Again the delighted giggle. “Big softie,” Katy said, and went off into peals of giggles again. “Big softie.”
“She wouldloveto meet you,” Gil said.
Katy shook her head, serious again. “Grandmama will not let puppies,” she said. “Or kitties. Only in the kitchen. For the mice.”
“Do you like kittens?” Gil asked.
“Ilovekitties,” his daughter assured him.
“Perhaps,” Gil said, “when you come home with me and your new mama, we will have a kitten that will be all your own.”
He glanced at Abby, and she did not look dismayed. Was that a bribe he had offered? But he meant it. If a kitten would make his daughter happy, then she would have one. Beauty would probably love it too once she had recovered from a touch of jealousy.
“Would you like to meet Beauty?” he asked. “That is the puppy’s name. Not here if Grandmama does not wish it. Perhaps— Mrs. Evans, does Katy get taken out for walks in the park?”
“Not often, sir,” the nurse said, frowning, by which Gil understood that it never happened. “Just sometimes in the garden.”
“Would you like to see the park and meet Beauty, Katy?” Gil asked.
His child, all big eyed, nodded, and then went darting across the room to tug at Mrs. Evans’s apron. “May I, Nanny?” she asked. “Please, please, please? See the puppy?”
