"He may come with us, mayn't he?" cried Hecla. "Come along, Trip!"
And Ivy echoed—
"Come, Trip."
Trip fully meant to come, so these invitations were unnecessary. Chris was at school; and Trip liked companions.
They went through two or three fields, where cows were lazily munching, and dragon-flies swooped hither and thither, and birds sang and insects buzzed. It was warm and sunny and very pleasant. The trees were, of course, in full leaf now, and the sun blazed down hotly.
Hecla was in one of her question-asking moods. She had fits of it now and then; and Ivy would listen at such times, with her big brown eyes wide open, content to listen while Hecla chattered.
"Elisabeth, were you often naughty when you were a little girl?"
Elisabeth said she wouldn't wonder if she was.
"But I want to know, truly—were you? Grown-up people always won't say if they were naughty. And I do like to be told. What did you do that was naughty?"
"If I was naughty, my mother just smacked me, Miss Hecla."