“Must we obey her, Mother?”
“Well, that’s rather a delicate point, my boy. I hope there’ll be no very serious questions of obedience, for I trust you won’t want to do anything that Miss Larkin will think she ought to forbid.”
“But if she does, must we obey?” persisted Kingdon.
“Hello, hello! What’s all this about love, honor, and obey?” cried a voice in the doorway, and the Maynards looked up to see Mr. Maynard smiling at them as he entered the room.
“Oh, Father!” cried Marjorie, making a spring at him; “do come and help us settle these awful questions. Must we obey Miss Larkin, while you and Mother are away?”
“Me ’bey Miss Larky,” said Rosy Posy, as she toddled to her father and clasped him round the knees, nearly upsetting that genial gentleman. “Me goody gail; me ’bey Miss Larky booful.”
“Kit’s good at it, too,” said King. “So let Kitty and Rosy Posy do the obeying, and Mops and I will count out.”
“What direful deeds are you planning, in defiance of Miss Larkin’s orders?” asked Mr. Maynard, sitting down, and taking the baby up in his arms.
“Not any,” said King; “but I hate to feel that I must do as she says, whether I want to or not.”
“But,” said his father, “you always do as Mother says, whether you want to, or not.”