“No,” said Laura, with emphasis.
“Good child,” said Mrs. Pocklington. “Now, listen to me. You’re never to think of him again——”
“Mamma!”
“Till I tell you.”
“Ah!”
“A tiresome, meddlesome fellow. Is your father in, Laura?”
“Yes, dear. Are you going to see him about——?”
“Why, you’re as bad as Isabel!” said Mrs. Pocklington, with feigned severity, disengaging Laura’s arms from her neck. “He’s never asked you either!”
“No, dear; but——”
“The vanity of these children! There, let me go; and for goodness’ sake, don’t be a cry-baby, Laura. Men hate water-bottles.”