When little Laura Gene was three months old, her mother went to Mrs. Chatterton one morning and asked, "Do you think that it is necessary for us to keep a nurse longer?"

"Miss Walters is very efficient. Why, don't you think we should keep her?"

"It seems like an unnecessary expense. Maybe I am selfish, Mrs. Chatterton, but sometimes I feel like snatching my baby right out of Miss Walters' arms, and pushing the girl out of the way. I love my little darling so much. I feel like I would rather care for her myself, without the help of a nurse."

"I am afraid it would be too much for you, May," the woman warned in a gentle voice.

"But you do not understand." Tears glistened in Laura Mae's eyes. "I am hungry for the love of my baby. It helps me forget how lonesome I am without Gene."

"I see, dear. Suit yourself, but I do not like to see you tied down so closely with the care of your baby."

"It is good weather now and we can all go out in the fresh air every day. I am actually jealous when Miss Walters goes down the walk, pushing the new carriage with my pretty baby in it. I want to push it myself." Laura Mae smiled all the while she was talking but she was very serious, and the lovely lady knew she was.

"I will discharge her, then, if you really want me to. Edith is getting along without a nurse now. Of course, her mother is still there with her, but I am here to help you too. I have longed to be able to cuddle the little darling myself." So, the nurse was discharged and Laura Mae found out just what a responsibility it was to care for a real live baby girl, but, with Mrs. Chatterton's advice and the helpful suggestions she found in her books on infant care, she found it was an enjoyable task to be a mother.

She and Edith Randall often called each other on the telephone and arranged their walks together. They would wheel their neatly adorned baby carriages to a shaded bench in a grassy park and then sit down to discuss their little darlings.

"What do you think? He has gained eight ounces this week. Bobby will soon be as big a man as his father."

"You should see my baby smile; she is beginning to notice everything! I did not know that babies were so smart when they were still so tiny."

"Isn't it fun to care for them? It makes me think of when I was a little girl playing with my dolls, only this is more interesting. Does Laura Gene like her orange juice yet?"

"Oh, yes, she likes it now and her cod liver oil, too."

"Do you know, this morning he tried to raise his little head right up! It thrilled me pink!" Thus, the babies grew, developing and growing along at the same pace. It was much like the unfolding of tiny petals on a rosebud to see them changing and growing stronger and prettier every day. The two young mothers were held near and dear to each other by a common bond. Later when the babies were a few months older, the conversations changed just a little.

"Edith, my baby has a tooth! Oh, it looks cute just one all alone down in the bottom of her mouth!"

"Bobby has two coming through at the same time, he was just awfully fretful last night. Oh, you should see him eat his cereal now." Before the girls could realize it, their babies had rows of snowy white teeth and were toddling about, jabbering in their own way about the blocks and other toys they found in the nursery.

***

Mrs. Chatterton spent fifteen long months of anxious waiting after the armistice was signed before she received word that John was sailing for the United States. Even then, he would have to remain in a Veteran's hospital for a while, before he would be permitted to go to his home on Colonial Heights. Infection had set in, and the doctors and nurses were having a very difficult time getting the wounds in his arm to heal as they wanted them to before they released them from their care.

The mother packed her grip and went to New York to meet John when he arrived from France. She planned to accompany him to the hospital and then stay where she could visit with for a couple of weeks, before coming back home. Laura Mae was to be the mistress of the whole lovely house while Mrs. Chatterton was away.

Outside, gay little snowflakes were scurrying about in the air, falling pell-mell over each other in their haste to reach the layer of white that had fallen months before. The wind whirled the downy, white flakes against the window panes, where they lingered an instant then melted and ran down the warm glass, for inside the room, a fire crackled in the red brick fireplace. From the street came the merry jingle of sleigh bells. Laura Mae rushed to the window, thrilled by the sound, but it made her homesick. How she longed for a ride in her own father's bobsleigh with the bells, on old Bird and Floss, jingling merrily as they trotted along the road!

The phone rang and Laura Mae hurried to say, "Hello."

"Hello, May?" came over the wire, "This is Edith."

"Oh, how are you?"

"Just fine. Listen, I have planned a little Birthday Party for Bobby. A few of the young mothers are going to bring their children, none of the little tots are over five years old. I am going to serve pink ice cream and cookies. I called to invite you and little Laura Gene to come."

"Thank you, Edith! It does not seem possible that our children are old enough to be having parties, does it?"

"It certainly doesn't, but they will be two years old in just a few more days," Edith Randall agreed. "You will come to the party, then?"

"Yes, of course, Edith, we will come if we are well."

The day came for the party. The little tots were just having the time of their lives playing "Ring Around the Rosy" when all of a sudden, little Gerald Homer dropped out of the game and began whining about how tired he felt. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were red and watery.

"He has not acted like himself for two or three days now," Mrs. Homer explained. "But he would come to the party because we planned on it and had talked so much about it when he was feeling all right."

The red on the little boy's face began to look blotchy and on closer examination, the women discovered that his neck and arms were all speckled with tiny red spots. They were all frightened and stunned for they were quite sure that it was some contagious disease Gerald had and that all of their precious darlings were being exposed to it. The discovery spoiled the party completely and brought it to a sudden end.

Laura Mae's heart was gripped by fear for the next ten days, and each of those days seemed like a week to her. She was afraid her baby was going to come down with whatever it was Gerald Homer had. No one knew just what it had been. Mrs. Homer would not call the doctor because the little red spots all went right away again and her boy was feeling fine. If she called a doctor, she might have to be quarantined and she felt that she could not submit to such a thing. If any of the others took whatever it was, that was just their bad luck, she wanted to be free to come and go as she pleased.

Edith was very worried, too, because Bobby whined around and did not feel very well, he had a cold in his head and both the boy's mother and grandmother checked him thoroughly each day, searching for any tiny red spots that might come on his.

Thirteen days passed and little Laura Gene seemed to be acting very natural, she romped and played like she always had. Perhaps, after all, Gerald had some innocent rash and the young mother had been foolish to have worried as she had.

"Mony May, tam't we go to Bobby Wandall's house and p'ay?" the little girl asked her mother.

"Not today, dear, Bobby isn't feeling very well."

"You know what? He have a weensy gway titten. Ooh, I sure do like it! Tan I have a gway titten, too?"

"Maybe, we will see if we can get a little gray kitten for you."

"Bobby's dot a biga big teddy bear. Tan I have a teddy, too?" Laura Gene teased.

"I guess so, we will see when "Gamma" comes back home again.

"Where gamma go?"

"To see her soldier boy, but come, you will have to take your nap now," the mother said.

"No," the baby puckered up her little lips and frowned. "I do'wan a take a nap."

"Little Sweetheart, you have to take your nap." It was not like little Laura Gene to act like that, so cross and peevish.

They went to the nursery and Laura Mae took her baby onto her lap, then began to rock back and forth, back and forth, singing softly all the while. The little girl kicked and squirmed restlessly in her mother's arms. She coughed a croupy cough and the mother thought that the little girl's eyes were waterier and redder than she had ever seen them before. Terror came over her, her baby was sick and she was sure of it! She rushed out into the hall. "Celia," she called, "Oh, Celia!"

"Yes, Miss May?"

"I am afraid the baby is sick," Laura Mae said when the maid came running to her. Celia felt the baby's forehead.

"She is a little feverish, Ma'am," she said with a troubled look.

"What shall we do?" the inexperienced mother asked. She felt very weak and helpless. "Please call Doctor Wilford and see if he will come out here, Celia."

Laura Mae trembled at the thought of her baby being sick. The little darling had a slight cold once and she had been feverish when she cut her first molar, but aside from those two times, she had never been sick at all. She carried the child back into the nursery and sat down in the rocker again, it was easier when she held the little warm body close to her. She continued to rock back and forth.

By the time Dr. Wilford arrived at the home on Colonial Heights, little speckles of red were beginning to appear on the baby's face and neck. Celia led the doctor up the stairs to the nursery.

"Good morning. What seems to be the trouble here?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"It is the baby," Laura Mae said and stopped rocking the chair. "Will you examine her, please?"

At first, Laura Gene was afraid of the doctor but she finally allowed him to take her on his knee, while he opened her dress and looked at her bare chest, then he felt her pulse and her hot little forehead.

"Have you a tongue, dolly?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Will you let me see it, please, like a big lady?" She opened her mouth for the doctor to see her tongue. The doctor nodded his head and then laid her down gently in her bed between cool white sheets.

"I would say that your baby has Chicken Pox," the Doctor said, "Is Mrs. Chatterton at home?"

"No, Dr. Wilford, she has gone to New York to meet her soldier boy, who is coming back from France."

"I see. I was just going to warn her that the quarantine officer will have to come and put a sign up by her front door."

"Oh," Laura Mae said in a loud whisper, her eyes wide.

The doctor could not help seeing she was. "Be of good cheer. The quarantine card will only be a white one, you can be thankful that it isn't a red one. It will have to be left up there for two weeks, but Chicken Pox is not a very serious sickness. Your baby will be feeling fine again in a few days."

"I am glad it is not a serious sickness." Laura Mae had to say something to hide her tears.

Just keep her in the house where it is warm, so she won't take cold. Give her liquid foods and I am sure she will be well again, in no time. If there is any question you want to ask me at any time, I will be glad to help you."

"Thank you so much, Doctor," she said as he took up his hat and grip and was gone.

Laura Mae stood looking down at her feverish baby. Was this the way her own darling mother had felt about her the night she had the horrible fever after her father had whipped her so hard for fishing with Gene? How she wished that her mother was here now, and Gene, too. It was always her mother and Gene, she wanted both of them. A big lump always came into her throat when she thought about them. Edith had told her that her husband would be home from the navy in a few weeks, but what about her own husband, where was he? What if something should happen now to little Laura Gene and then if Gene should come back after all and he would never have a chance to see his baby girl? Oh, why did it all have to happen when Mrs. Chatterton was away from home? If Celia had not come in just then to ask some questions about the household affairs downstairs, she was sure she would have had to scream out or break down and cry.

After Celia had left the room again, the baby asked for a drink of water. Laura Mae got a glass full that was as cold as ice and held it to the hot, dry, little lips.

"Please, wock-a-bye me, Mony, May," she said after she had taken a sip of the cold water.

Laura Mae set down the glass and lifted the baby out of the little bed, cradling her tenderly in her arms, then softly came the old familiar lullaby that her mother had taught her when she was a child,

"Rock, a bye, baby, on the tree top," as she rocked slowly back and forth. Soon the little eyelids closed in sleep but the young mother did not lay the baby down in her bed as she had always done when she fell asleep in her arms. She bent over and kissed the forehead that was crowned with golden curls and continued to rock and sing, she felt surer of herself while she was doing that.

"This is being a mother," she thought as she sat and rocked the minutes into hours. "I guess that every mother has to be brave and go through things like this if life."