“You seem to thrive on it,” returned papa.
“O, there is no use of worrying one’s self into the grave, so far as I can see. I believe in enjoying everything that I can squeeze a bit of fun out of. So I laugh at Louis, and he gets angry.”
“It is just possible that he may not see the fun,” said papa, soberly.
“That is his lookout.”
“Is he really ill?” asked mamma.
“Not much, I guess. But he is as full of whims as any old granny! He should have been a girl.”
“Keep him on your side of the house,” retorted Fan. “It is a good thing that boys do not monopolize all the virtues.”
He looked at her with a peculiar stare, then laughed. He did seem brimming over with merriment, and rather pleased that Fanny had shown her colors. So they had a little gay sparring.
“Do you not think your brother would like a cup of tea?” asked mamma.
“When he gets in a fit like this, he generally sulks it out,” returned Stuart carelessly, rising and sauntering out on the porch.