"Oh, is it? Well, you go on to your work, and I'll hold the door shut for a while."
"Och, I cuddent think of throublin' ye, Miss. Run on, now, happen yer mother is wantin' ye."
"Happen she isn't. Scoot, Ellen, and give me a chance at that door."
Unable to resist Midget's wheedling glance, the big Irishwoman moved away from the door, and Marjorie threw it open, and disclosed King, calmly sitting on a flour barrel.
As he was fairly caught, the game was over, and the two, with intertwined arms rejoined the family.
"Good race?" said Mr. Maynard, looking at the exhausted runners.
"Fine!" said Marjorie. "You see, Father, Delight has no brothers or sisters, so how could she be very racketty? She couldn't play tag with her mother or father, could she?"
"I think you'd play tag with the Pope of Rome, if you couldn't get any one else."
"That would be rather fun," said Midget, laughing, "only I s'pose his robes and things would trip him up. But I do believe he'd like it. I don't 'spect he has much fun, anyway. Does he?"
"Not of that sort, probably. But, Midget mine, there are other sorts of fun beside tearing up and down stairs like a wild Indian."