John was glad of this, though outwardly he sympathized with her slight mishap, and facetiously offered her a dose of her own picra.
Mrs. Trent also rose, saying:
“I will go to Pedro. Though I did try to thank him, when he first came, I had but a moment to 64 give him then, and I fear he will feel he has been neglected. As if I could ever neglect one to whom I owe my darling’s restoration!”
Mrs. Benton looked after her, and sighed.
“There she goes again! and that woman hasn’t tasted a mouthful in a dog’s age!”
“How long’s a ‘dog’s age,’ Aunt Sally?” demanded Ned as he helped himself to a buttered biscuit which Pasqual had just placed on the old lady’s plate.
“Age as long as a dog,” commented Luis, seizing the biscuit from his mate and running away with it. Of course, Ned gave chase, and the usual battle ensued, after which they dropped down upon the spot where they had fought, threw their arms around each other’s necks, and munched the biscuit together with an air of cherubic delight.
Everybody laughed at the pair, upon which Aunt Sally now descended with a threatening mien and a plate of plum cake.
“Ain’t you ashamed of yourselves, you naughty children? Fighting half your time. Here! Eat that and let your suppers stop. By the way, how many suppers have you had already?”
“Six or seven,” promptly replied Ned, who had eaten with whoever invited him.