chin; her pretty lips were not pretty at all; her brow was rumpled. Jane began to seek for the cause of dissension, to put affectionate questions, to use her voice soothingly.
“He’s a beast!” was Bessie’s reiterated observation; but by degrees she added phrases more explanatory. “How can I help it if he cuts himself when he’s shaving?—Serve him right!—What for? Why, for saying that babies was nothing but a nuisance, and that my baby was the ugliest and noisiest ever born!”
“Did she cry in the night?” inquired Jane, with sympathy.
“Of course she did! Hasn’t she a right to?”
“And then Mr. By ass cut himself with his razor?“
“Yes. And he said it was because he was woke so often, and it made him nervous, and his hand shook. And then I told him he’d better cut himself on the other side, and it wouldn’t matter. And then he complained because he had to wait for breakfast. And
