Even Gage noticed that her color was better, and that she seemed less fussy and more relaxed. A housemaid knocked on the door with a breakfast tray—steel-cut oatmeal, strawberries and cream, coffee for Gage and milk for Billy—and set the tray on a small table in the corner of the room. The nurse explained that coffee did not sit well with a little’s constitution.“Doctor knows best,” Gage said when Billy scowled. But she did not object, at least not until the maid put a cap on the cup fitted with a wide rubber nipple. The maid turned to Gage. “Mr. Chandler, Dr. Adler says he put your little one’s tonic in the bottle. It needs to be drunk slowly, and the nipple slows down its consumption. He recommends this form of delivery.”“Thank you, miss. I’ll see that she gets it.”The maid curtseyed prettily and left the room. Gage began eating his breakfast. But across from him, his little Billy was obviously sulking.“Don’t you want your breakfast?” he asked.“I want the food,”
What do You think about The Marshal's Little Girl?
