The idea of being introduced to Mr. Douglass Byrd and having to speak
directly to him with my own voice has kept me miserable all this month
in which I have been so perfectly happy being Roxanne's friend and
confidante, but it has happened and I'm glad it's over, though it was
under trying circumstances.
These are they. My fears have come to pass and in this eventful month
Lovelace Peyton has grown from a slender, frail little boy into almost
as much of a roly-poly as Mamie Sue, and looks more like her than he
does like Roxanne. I try not to feed him more than four times a day
extra, but he is stern with me about it. Sometimes he will trade the
cake I give him about four o'clock for a new shaped bottle, but lots
of times he gets the bottle and the cake both away from me. I just
can't be strong-minded with Lovelace Peyton, like I ought to be to
make up for the way Roxanne forgets to see him from the rosy cloud.
"If you'll give me a bottle, I'll give you one mouth-kiss, Phyllis;
but for cake and bottles too, I can maybe make it two," is the way he
bargains with me. Fifteen years is a long time to starve for a little
brother to love, so Lovelace Peyton almost always gets both the cake
and bottles.
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