"That's why I come here," Miss Eyester sighed, "though I'm pining to go somewhere livelier."
Wallie wagged his head playfully.
"Treason! Treason! Why, you've been coming here for—" Miss Eyester's alarmed expression caused him to finish lamely—"for ever so long."
"Wallie!" It was his aunt's voice calling and he went instantly to a tall, austere lady in a linen collar who was knitting wash-rags with the feverish haste of a piece-worker in a factory.
He stood before her obediently.
"Don't go in to-day."
"Why, Auntie?" In his voice there was a world of disappointment.
"It's too rough—there must have been a storm at sea."
"But, Auntie," he protested, "I missed yesterday, taking Mrs. Appel to the auction. It isn't very rough——"
"Look at the white-caps," she interrupted, curtly, "I don't want you to go, Wallie."