Soothe her, and wait here.

Is Mr.Finch in the study ?" Mrs.Finch swallowed another sob, and said, "Yes." The child made a last effort.

"Jicks will go with you," said the indomitable little Arab faintly.

I ran out of the room, and left the three babies--big, little, and least--together.
After knocking at the study door without getting any reply, I opened it and went in.

Reverend Finch, comfortably prostrate in a large arm-chair (with his sermon-paper spread out in fair white sheets by his side), started up, and confronted me in the character of a clergyman that moment awakened from a sound sleep.
The rector of Dimchurch instantly recovered his dignity.
"I beg your pardon, Madame Pratolungo, I was deep in thought.