"No, that I shall not do," was the calm reply, "because I have told you many times that you are not to spring out and frighten Sunbeam."
Disappointment and dismay was in the pair of brown eyes raised so beseechingly.
"Oh, Auntie Monnie, do forgive me, do! Sunbeam isn't frightened of me. She's quite grave now."
But Monica drove steadily on, leaving the little boy in a tempest of tears upon the road.
"May I not intercede for the small culprit?" Randolph said. "It seems rather—"
"Heartless and hard-hearted, eh? But a little discipline is good for Chuckles. He never gets it from Aunt Dannie, so I must make up her deficiencies. And it is no hardship for the imp to run home. We shall be there in five minutes."
They were turning up a drive now, and soon arrived at a red bricked gable house. The sun-blinds were down at every window; a lawn in front was gay with flower-beds, and Randolph could not help exclaiming:
"This is not my idea of a genuine farmhouse."
"No? You must wait till you see my dairies and all my live stock. Here is Aunt Dannie."
A frail little white-haired lady stood at the door.