“Well—it happens. People do get like that at his age, Jane.”
“Does everybody?”
“No, I suppose not everybody. Just some.”
Jane's interest was roused. “Well, do those that do, mamma,” she inquired, “do they all act like Willie?”
“No,” said Mrs. Baxter. “That's the trouble; you can't tell what's coming.”
Jane nodded. “I think I know,” she said. “You mean Willie—”
William himself interrupted her. He returned violently to the doorway, his hair still tousled, and, standing upon the threshold, said, sternly:
“What is that child wearing her best dress for?”
“Willie!” Mrs. Baxter cried. “Go brush your hair!”
“I wish to know what that child is all dressed up for?” he insisted.