But Selma shook her head. "Both of you are wrong," she
said with authority. "This is a beauty."
"It doesn't look new to my eyes," protested Mrs. Parley.
"Of course it isn't new. I shouldn't wonder if she bought it while
travelling abroad in Europe. It's artistic, and--and I shan't let baby
destroy it."
Babcock glanced from one gift to the other quizzically. Then by way of
disposing of the subject he seized his daughter in his arms and dandling
her toward the ceiling cried, "If it's artistic things we must have,
this is the most artistic thing which I know of in the wide world.
Aren't you, little sugar-plum?"
Mrs. Farley, with motherly distrust of man, apprehensively followed with
her eyes and arms the gyrations of rise and fall; but Selma, though she
saw, pursued the current of her own thought which prompted her to
examine her wedding-ring. She was thinking that, compared with Mrs.
Taylor's, it was a cart wheel--a clumsy, conspicuous band of metal,
instead of a delicate hoop. She wondered if Lewis would object to
exchange it for another.
With the return of her strength, Selma took up again eagerly the tenor
of her former life, aiding and abetting Mrs. Earle in the development of
the Institute.
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