"Downstairs—in the kitchen."
"Does he like boys?"
"Not when they cry."
Archibald rubbed his eyes. "I'm not crying now."
But at that moment, Custard, who considered that he had been kept in the background quite long enough, came upstairs on his own account. As Sarah said, he seemed "ter sense the situation," for he trotted about making friends, lapping the tears from Tommy's face, and standing up on his hind legs to let Totty pat his head.
Sarah promptly took advantage of the lull to whisk the boys off to the bath-room; half an hour later, all five children, well wrapped in shawls and blankets, were gathered about the fire in Patricia's room for the hanging of the Christmas stockings.
That ceremony over, Sarah pounced on Tommy and Archibald, carrying them off to bed in Miss Kirby's room. "An' mercy knows what Miss Julia done say when she find yo' here," she muttered, tucking them in snugly.
Archibald sat up in bed. "I want—Custard!"
"Yo' go 'long ter sleep, young sir," Sarah expostulated. "What yo' think Marse Santa Clause goin' say ter such goin's-on?"
"I want Custard!"