Annis had seen her mother walk down the path under the mulberry trees, and she ran swiftly, sobbing as if her heart would break with a strange, yearning homesickness for the home in the forest and her mother all to herself once more. Then she caught her foot in the root of a tree that had pushed up out of the ground, but two friendly arms clasped her, and sitting down on the bole of a tree that had been sawed off to thin the dense shrubbery, he held her tenderly.
"What is it, little Annis? What has happened to you?"
"I want my dear mother," the child sobbed. "I want her to go away and take me. I can't stay here. I'd rather have Sally Brown to play with, and the great woods. I think I shouldn't even mind Indians, nor dark nights."
"Has Charles been cross to you?"
"No, I like Charles. Let me go find mamma."
"You can't have her just now," said Louis in a soothing tone. "Father has to have her on a little matter of business."
"You all have her!" resentfully.
"That is because she is so charming and sweet."
Annis looked up into the face that was smiling and sympathetic.
"Tell me the trouble. Surely Patty or Jacky have not been scolding you? For you couldn't have done anything bad. You are such a shy, quiet little thing."