"I don't much care; we've the rest of the day to ourselves anyway; let's go home." Phyllis made the suggestion light heartedly enough, for lessons never worried her for very long and mathematics least of all.
They walked home through the park and met Don. He was chasing brownies as usual, and poor Nannie was finding it difficult to keep up with him. She never let him out of her sight for even an instant, and every man that passed was a possible kidnapper in her old eyes.
Don greeted the girls with joy.
"I were chasing a brownie!" he exclaimed, "but he got away from me."
He took Phyllis by the hand and led her towards the lake. Janet sat down on the bench beside his nurse.
"Why does Don always say were, instead of was?" she inquired.
"'Deed, miss, that's his father's fault," Nannie replied. "One day Master Don said 'they was going' and his father picked him up on his lap and he said to him, said he, 'Don, never say was, say were.' The poor lamb was so startled that he never forgot, and I can't make him change for the life of me."
"Don't try," Janet laughed; "it's awfully cunning to hear him say were! I hope he never changes."
Phyllis came back, a brown leaf in her hand, and Don tugging at her skirts.
"Here we are, Nannie, all safe and sound, and we caught the brownie." She gave the leaf to Don, and she and Janet went on their way.