"I see that Pattie manages to get the upper hand of you men somehow! I'm sick and tired to death of hearing of nothing but Pattie's goodness. If she'd condescend to be bad for once, I could put up with her better."
"You would probably be the first to blame her," rejoined Cragg, aware how useless it was to answer his wife, yet for once unable to resist doing so. "There are bad people in plenty. We need a few more good ones."
"Wants own darling Pattie!" murmured Dot.
"There you go again! Will you hold your tongue, Dot, and not talk in that ridiculous way?"
Dot's eyes grew large, and filled with tears.
"My dear, think of Dot's state. You must not make her cry," urged Cragg anxiously. "She is not used of late to be spoken to in such a tone."
"Wants—Pattie!" sobbed Dot brokenly.
"Yes, yes, dear; Pattie will soon come back," said Cragg, stooping over her. "Don't you mind, little one. It's all right. Pattie's only gone for a walk, and she will soon be here. Don't cry, Dot. Ma-ma didn't mean anything unkind. I've got to go to business now, but I shall soon look in again."
Dot clutched at him, casting glances of evident shrinking towards Mrs. Cragg.
"Dadda—stay! Dadda—not go!"