"Have you?" he demanded.

"No, David."

Here his interest in Mrs. Richie's affairs flagged, for the apple
began to steam deliciously. Dr. Lavendar, watching her with his shrewd
old eyes, asked her one or two questions; but, absorbed in the child,
she answered quite at random. She put her cheek against his hair, and
whispered, softly: "Turn round, and I'll give you forty kisses."
Instantly David moved his head away. The snub was so complete that she
looked over at Dr. Lavendar, hoping he had not seen it. "I once knew a
little baby," she said, trying to hide her embarrassment, "that had
curly hair the color of yours."

"It has begun to drip," said David briefly. "Does Alice live at your
house?"

"_Alice!_"

"The gentleman--your brother--said Alice was nineteen. I thought maybe
she lived at your house."

"No, dear. Look at the apple!"

David looked. "Why not?"

"Why, she lives at her own house, dear little boy." "Does she pay you
a visit?"